Summer in the Pool House
by PrincessOats
Summary: [On Temporary Hiatus] Consequences arise when Ryan and Summer spend some time alone in the pool house.
1. One

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: This is my first story. Ever. Constructive criticism would be appreciated, but please don't psychologically damage my fragile little mind. I am totally going for a future R/S pairing, so you have been warned! I've written a couple of chapters already, but if there isn't some feedback, well, I just won't update. So read and review, pretty please with a cherry on top? And… onwards to the story!

**Chapter One**

Summer Roberts hesitatingly opened her eyes, grimacing from the bright light shining through her bedroom window. She wondered what time it was, being that no one bothered to wake her up. 

But then again, no one ever did. 

The house was empty, save for the occasional housekeeper visit, and where her dad and step-mom were, well, Summer could never keep track. However, this made things nice and quiet, and it was great to wake up whenever she damn well pleased and have a coffee in the kitchen for breakfast. Summer preferred it that way.

Well. She _had_ preferred it that way.

Because lately she had the feeling that everything was a little too perfect, a little too peaceful, a little too _boring_, if you ask her. Sure, it was nice to know that if she ever needed a shoulder to snark on, there was Seth, and if she ever needed some spooning, there was Seth, and if she ever needed _anything_… There was Seth. 

It was just that sometimes Summer wondered whether Seth would be the last (and only) guy she would ever sleep with. And it was these kinds of random thoughts that just popped into her head whenever Seth was busying himself with the clasp on her back. 

That was why she had told him. That she needed some time apart, you see, and that she hoped he understood but it would be nice to just be a 'Summer' instead of a 'Summereth'. 

And that's when the shit really hit the fan. It probably didn't help matters that she told him in the middle of… you know. It was getting quite boring, anyway, and she had almost had to start faking it right there.

Seth started getting all defensive, and articulate, and _loud_. Summer did too, but she was louder (as always). When he started getting insulting, so did Summer, before she told him to get out of her room and take Captain Oats with him, because the Captain was not going to get any alone time with Princess Sparkle for an indefinite amount of time. 

So. That was last night, and Summer figured that maybe Seth had forgiven her. She put on her skimpiest skirt, the one that Seth was rendered speechless most of the time by, and a nice low top to complement the look, and primped in front of the mirror for a full twenty minutes before leaving for his house. 

This is what she did every time they fought, and it usually didn't take long before Seth was all apologies and touchy-feely. The only part of the usual preparation Summer left out was her requisite supporting phone call from Marissa, because Marissa was somewhere in Europe right now, vacationing for the summer with Julie and her latest boy toy with a bank account. 

Summer drove to the Cohen's house, all optimistic. She snuck in the pool house to look for Seth, who usually hung out there for some 'guy time' with Ryan before succumbing to the call of Summereth and followed her into his room for some 'girl time'. 

Anyway, that was how things were always like, and today shouldn't have been any different. 

Then Ryan spotted her and broke the news. 

Seth had upped and left to go sailing all summer. "To give her space," he had said. 

Hah! Cowardly jackass.


	2. Two

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: So, all of your nice, positive reviews make me happy and I'll continue updating (but this doesn't mean you shouldn't continue clicking on the friendly little review button at the bottom of the page!) Hopefully my writing will improve as I get more used to it and one day, I'd like the characters to be a little less OOC. I'm taking all of your reviews to heart – like how someone said I should have longer chapters. It's been one of my concerns too, but each chapter is usually a page on Word, and that's pretty much when my creativity just shuts down (oy). But I'll be trying to work on that! I promise. Maybe I'll just update more, I don't know. Anyhoo, onwards to the story!

**Chapter Two**

Ryan Atwood was at a loss at what to do. 

Yesterday Seth had broken the news to him and the Cohen parents that he would like to go sailing for the summer, and that he would be leaving tomorrow. Of course, Sandy and Kirsten didn't react lightly to the news, but Seth was determined and had promised to support them in their old age. Or something like that.

Ryan immediately knew it was because of Summer that Seth was getting all crazy. As Seth was packing at a furious pace in his room, Ryan casually entered and brought up the subject mid-conversation.

He regretted this immediately, because Seth began ranting. And Ranting Seth was much, much more talkative and loud than Just Plain Angry Seth. Ryan shut him up by promising to deliver the message to her. After all, Ryan wanted to enjoy his summer, dammit, especially without Marissa around to ask for forgiveness.

As much as he'd like to forgive and forget the Oliver incident and just get her barnacle-like status out of the way, he didn't really want to. Because then, they would just be right back at square one with her pestering him to get back together. If only Luke were here. But Luke was now in Canada, vacationing with his dad at some unknown hunting lodge or whatever. 

Which made Ryan realize that he would be very alone this summer, with Seth gone and everything. 

Shit.

And now Summer was looking at Ryan with puzzled eyes, then eyes that were just really, really angry. If looks could kill, well, Ryan would be drowned, hanged, and stuffed in a briefcase by now. 

"How the _fuck_ could that bastard do this to me?" she screamed.

"Uh… uh…" Ryan stuttered. There was a reason he didn't talk much.

"After _all_ we've been through! After _all_ I've done for him! He just, like, leaves on his little boat and doesn't look back?!"

Ryan was starting to believe that the myth of Summer's rage blackouts wasn't such a tall tale after all. "Maybe… maybe he didn't mean it?" he ventured.

Summer narrowed her eyes and shot him a 'look', and Ryan could see that this conversation was going nowhere fast. 

"Look, I know you and Seth have your problems, and I don't know what it is _this_ time, but could you, maybe, leave me out of it? I mean, I'm sure Seth had his reasons for leaving you behind, and –" He saw Summer lose her composure for a brief second and he felt a twinge in his chest. Damn heartburn. Acting up again.

"I – yeah, sorry, Ryan." She bit her lip.

"That's… okay." Ryan had never seen Summer apologize before. It was like there was Summer, and there were those words coming out of her mouth that were so not-Summer, and well, the combination just didn't look right, in his opinion. "Look, it's kind of boring just standing here. I'm going to go play some video games. If you want to play too, well, I'm not totally against you doing it here. Uh… with me." He looked at her with a lost expression, half-expecting her to say 'ew' and immediately leave.

And he didn't really want that. 

Summer gave a small grin. "Okay, Chino. You're going to regret this because I'm going to, like, kick your ass."

The ice officially broken, Summer followed Ryan into the pool house for some awesome ninja action.


	3. Three

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Hey, another chapter for you guys, and pretty quickly, to make up for the short chapters. I like my divisions, I guess. So I've decided this would be more of a contemplative fic instead of an 'action' one, so I won't really have that much going on or lots of talking. This means that if something happens, there will be no beating around the bush (which will make for some pleasant surprises, yeah?) Oh, and I totally forgot to mention this, but Theresa and Luke/Julie never happened. So if I make no mention of them, well, it's not because I have no regard for continuity. And… onwards and upwards!

**Chapter Three**

Summer and Ryan eventually developed a comfortable pattern.

After Summer slept in and woke up at a healthy noon-hour, she would shower and throw on any old pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and drive over to the Cohen mansion. Ryan left the pool house door unlocked and she would enter and park her butt next to him on the couch, and they would watch T.V. awkwardly. Or play video games awkwardly. Or if they were really bored, cards (awkwardly). Then she would leave, lying that her parents were expecting her.

But lately that daily sequence of events had been changing as well.

It wasn't really silent anymore, at least not when the T.V. was blaring with the latest re-run of _The Valley_. And Summer found out, surprisingly, that Ryan really did have a lot to say. Sort of. 

They started off asking each other curious questions about a 'safe' topic open for discussion, aka Seth and Marissa. Granted, Ryan was still a little touchy about Marissa, but Summer felt it was her duty as best friend to bring the girl up in conversation as much as she could.  So, Ryan was quite pissed off, but he endured it anyway.

He enjoyed the company. Or rather, he would enjoy _any_ company. 

Ryan had his own juicy tidbits about Seth to tell as well, and well, Seth wasn't really talking to Summer anymore. She was still angry that Seth hadn't even called once to tell her what was up with him, ask her what was up with her, and/or inquire about the weather. So, Summer was quite pissed off, but she endured it anyway.

She enjoyed the company. Or rather, she would enjoy _any_ company.

Then their conversations got more personal, mainly because there was nothing else to talk about. There was only so much time that could be spent on T.V., games, and talk about their semi-exes spending their summer trying to get away from them as much as humanly possible. 

They couldn't figure out who would go first, though. They sort of knew it had to come to this, this confessionalizing of sorts, but no one could say whose turn it was.

And then one day, as Summer was coming up the walkway, she saw Kirsten and Sandy and Ryan at the dinner table, eating together like a normal family. That night, she had had a healthy serving of McDonald's salad washed down with coke, which she ate alone as Pat the housekeeper vacuumed the carpet behind her. 

So it was a little too easy to feel jealous of Ryan at that point.

But then he looked up, and gave her a look as if to say, _This isn't my family either._

After that they noticed that they were both alone. 

I mean, _really_ alone. 

Both of them had times when they felt abandoned by their friends and family. And Summer decided that she'd be damned if she didn't immediately latch on after finally finding someone who could really understand the hell she went through when Seth and Marissa weren't looking.

Even if that someone was Ryan.

That night, while Colin on _The Valley_ was complaining to Elena about the downside to living in Tarzania, Summer shut off the T.V. and turned to Ryan. She had been practicing what she'd say before he finished dinner, and the time for confession was now or never.

"So… your mom abandoned you?" Ryan started to shoot Summer one of his sideways looks, but she quickly muttered, "Me too."

To Ryan, Summer had said this like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she was talking about the most popular shade of nail polish, or something.

Ryan didn't know where this new Summer with the not-Summer words came from, but he decided to reply anyway.

This time, Summer didn't pretend she had to leave at midnight; they both knew no one was waiting for her at home. It was also the first time Summer could remember that Ryan spoke in multiple sentences. Sometimes he even made a joke, and wonder of wonders, even gave a half-smile.

Summer didn't know where this new Ryan with the not-Ryan actions came from, but she decided to smile in return anyway.


	4. Four

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Hey, just want to thank all of you for your encouraging reviews. It means a lot to me! I'm just churning these chapters out like there's no tomorrow for some reason, but I'm getting scared of inevitable writer's block. It's hard to get inspiration, since there's going to be a three (!) week breakfor the show. Augh! And also, if you guys are liking the Ryan/Summer thing, you should totally go check out "The Unexpected" by tiffany82 (if you haven't already, it's pretty good). And… onwards to the bat cave – er, story.

**Chapter Four**

Eventually they felt guilty. 

It was the day that Summer dragged Ryan to the mall, telling him that she would die if she didn't get new sandals, and since Ryan was alone and Summer was alone, well, it was only logical, right?

Only, it wasn't very logical for Summer to decide to browse every single store on the way, especially stopping at the swimsuit store to model some looks for Ryan.

Oh yeah. He really needed those images of hot Summer in a hot bikini, especially since he always had a lot of time to think about it before he went to sleep at night.

And it didn't really help that now he knew exactly what flavour of lip gloss she bought (passion fruit) and what brand of sunscreen she used (Neutrogena). 

Summer could see Ryan was starting to look distressed, and although she didn't know why, she wanted to cheer him up. Of course, her idea of doing so was to drag him to every _other _store, those being the men's clothing stores. Summer ended up getting so enthusiastic at the prospect of Ryan and a new wardrobe, she went a bit overboard. But Ryan held her in check. Summer particularly enjoyed it when he tried on the skin-tight blue shirt and leather pants, but Ryan would have none of that.

In the end, Ryan walked away with only a new leather wrist cuff, and Summer ended up not buying those sandals after all. It was a funny thing, being distracted.

They got in the car to go home, and Summer contentedly stretched out her legs and admired her new purchases. Ryan tried to make a joke about how she practically bought out the mall, but his mind wasn't really on financial exploits, if you know what I mean. 

Summer scoffed, and reached over to take his hand. She admired the wrist cuff, saying it suited him and whatnot, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she really didn't grab him to coo at her shopping skills.

But then Summer's cell rang, and it was Marissa. Summer had no idea how, since Marissa was still in Europe, and how much it was costing, but well. Marissa was calling.

Summer dropped Ryan's hand, and turned away, talking quietly into the phone while Ryan started the car and drove off. 

He chauffeured Summer to her house. She was too tired from her mind-blowing shopping trip, she said. Ryan thought that she was a seasoned veteran, and that maybe there was something that she wasn't telling him, but he let it go because sometimes, Summer just didn't make sense. She was like Seth, in a way.

"Speaking of Seth," Kirsten and Sandy commented, as they discussed their firstborn's sailing exploits at the dinner table that night, "what about Summer?"

"What _about_ Summer?" Ryan said casually.

"Well." Sandy looked at Kirsten. "She's been hanging around here an awful lot lately."

"That's because she's got nowhere else to go."

There was an awkward pause as the two expected further explanation.

"It's not a big deal, I don't mind," he dismissed.

Sandy spoke slowly, and Ryan could tell he was choosing his words wisely. "Seth might mind." 

He said it with a hint of fatherly admonishment, a bit of a threat, and a smidgen of curiosity. You could say that Sandy was good with words like Ryan was good with looks. Maybe it was because he was a lawyer.

At the mention of Seth's name, Ryan grew a little uncomfortable. 

Ah well, just the heartburn acting up again. Yeah. Damn heartburn.


	5. Five

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Heh, maybe updating is like my new hobby or something. Anyway, I'm just fiddling around with the rating because I don't really know how graphic I'll get in the future and whether I'll be able to write it well if I do decide to go 'R'. So I guess it'll be PG-13 for now, and there's always the off-chance I'll change it later (or I've been toying around with the idea of a co-author – any takers?) Oh well. Onwards to the Alamo (or Chino), whatever.

**Chapter Five**

Ryan was watching _The Valley_ when Summer strolled into the pool house and plopped herself on the couch. She didn't have to ask him what he was watching, being that she had memorized every single episode, but she got a small kick out of the fact that he was enjoying it so much.

"Whatcha watching, _Ry-_an?" she teased. 

He just let out an annoyed grunt, and Summer could tell he was really into the show.

"Oh, so _this_ is the episode they're airing today. Do you know Colin, like, makes up his mind in this one? Yeah, between his childhood best friend and the new girl in school, he ends up choosing –"

Ryan clamped his hand over her mouth and shot her a warning glance. 

This just amused her even more so. When he removed his hand and obsessively turned back to the T.V., Summer watched him a bit more closely. 

The weeks spent together with him were, well, I guess you could call them fun. And although Ryan was usually against anything Summer wanted to do (shopping, tanning, and so on), they managed to spend countless hours with each other without getting bored. 

And she got to see his endearing side, and how he made an effort to wear that wrist cuff every day (although she would've preferred to see the leather pants, but still). He had been a really good friend to her, even though he was Seth's 'brother' and was supposed to be on his side, and all.

But that was alright. Ryan was Seth's friend, but now he was also hers too.

Ryan gave an audible gasp when Colin decided on the new girl, and she bit down hard on her lip to stifle a laugh.

The episode's ending credits now rolling onscreen, Summer turned to Ryan and grinned. "Chino!" 

"What?" Ryan already knew this nickname had become a sort of affectionate term, and so it didn't really bother him anymore.

"I'm _bored_." Summer pouted.

Ryan turned to her and rolled his eyes. "So get, like, a manicure or something." 

Summer's eyes brightened. "Really? Do you know how to paint nails, because I can never get my right hand to match my left and I really, really need help with that. And like, ooh! Maybe I can give you a manicure too!"

Ryan's eyes widened. "Um, no… that's, that's okay."

Summer was getting even more excited. She moved her face closer and examined his eyebrows. "You know, you should really get them plucked. You wouldn't want to look like Mr. Cohen."

Ryan was a little scared at that comment, but he was growing increasingly aware of the nearness of Summer's face. He always thought she looked hot, but in her excited state right now, she was looking pretty adorable. He didn't know when she made the transition from being obnoxious to adorable, and he wasn't sure why he felt just a little nervous.

Summer, also, hadn't pulled her face away yet and wasn't planning to. At first she was just remarking on his eyebrows, but now her gaze shifted to his entire face and focused on his very nice lips. And then she realized that maybe, just maybe, she might have a _little_ thing for Ryan Atwood, and well, things just got a little fuzzy and out of focus as their faces got closer and closer.

When they kissed, it was like nothing else they had ever experienced. It was, essentially, mind-blowing.

They were really getting into it, until Summer pulled away and exclaimed in horror, "Ew! You were _chewing gum_?"


	6. Six

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Lalalala. On my writing kick and it's the weekend! Whee! I'm still liking reviews, so feel free to tell me whatever you feel like about the story. I can see there are people who actually take time to review almost every chapter, so I'm eternally grateful to OcFan4u, BlueStarGirl, Candy.07, and everyone else! Also, I remember someone wondered about what Marissa called about, sometime in Chapter Four. But I was writing it as, like, even a random phone call that probably had nothing to do with Ryan could make Summer guilty – which sort of tied into the whole idea of the chapter. Or… it was a loose plot point. Heh, guess we'll never know. Speaking of loose plot points, I've just noticed the lack of Anna in these chapters. Just think of the story as post-Goodbye Girl, 'kay? Onwards! 

**Chapter Six**

After that big kiss, and after Summer removed the Trident from her mouth and they kissed a couple more times to make up for it, Summer and Ryan pulled away, never taking their eyes off each other.

Summer was the first to speak. "So…"

"So…" Ryan echoed.

"So… we just did something that was, like, totally wrong."

"Yeah."

"And… I should be saying like, 'ew', and 'Chino, get your hands off of me', but… I'm not."

"Huh."

Summer regarded Ryan seriously for a moment. "So, like… what does this mean?"

Ryan thought for a second and mumbled, "Momentary lapse of judgement." 

Summer seemed to be quite pleased with this explanation and agreed, "It was a momentary lapse of judgement. Won't happen again."

Ryan nodded. "Won't happen again."

There were a couple more nights of awkwardness after that for them, mixed in with guilt. It was like the beginning of summer all over again. Ryan didn't know whether he could look at Summer straight in the eyes and Summer didn't know whether she was now officially cheating on Seth, except for the fact that he had just ditched her and they were technically, 'on a break' (as some popular sitcom had termed it). 

Either way, both knew it was wrong and that it should stop. Right now.

About a week after the 'incident that shall not be named', Ryan and Summer were sitting next to each other on the couch. Summer crossed her legs and they accidentally came into contact with Ryan's. 

He looked at her. She looked at him.

It was bare skin against bare skin, and they didn't move. 

A while later, as they were making out heavily on the couch, Summer turned to Ryan and said, "Just for the summer."

Because as much as they would hate to admit it, they always had a thing for each other from the minute they met. Granted, it was a turnoff that Ryan was from Chino and Summer was a bitch (in the nicest way possible), but the physical attraction was always there.

And it was the physical attraction, and the hot summer days, that led to this sort of using each other for the sake of gaining some satisfaction. They couldn't really _deny_ it, nor hide it, so it was best to get it all out of their systems, right? All out in the open and then they could return back to normal with their respective, 'destined' partners, right?

Yeah, that's right. 

It was just for the summer, and when summer was over, they'd forget this ever happened and chalk it up to a _long_ momentary lapse of judgement.

It would be so easy to control this little recreation they were enjoying, or so they thought.

Because, no matter how many times they avoided the topic, and no matter how many times they reassured themselves that it 'really didn't mean anything', Ryan had feelings for Summer and Summer had feelings for Ryan.

In a word, they were fucked.


	7. Seven

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A (Long) Note from the Author: I'm very iffy about this chapter. Originally, Ryan and Summer were going to sleep together, but like BlueStarGirl said in her review, that's a big turn-off in the story. I agree, when the two main characters just jump into bed together (like, I love Seth/Summer, but gah), especially in fiction, it just irks me. I guess, no sex for the two sounds a little OOC, but, oy. So I had to rewrite this chapter, and I don't know if it sounds out of sync, or what. I may rewrite it again, but I guess it all depends on what you guys think, because I'm basically just shooting in the dark here, and I'd really like to hear your opinions about it. Anyhoo, if you guys would really just like to see Ryan/Summer get it on, there's this great (but graphic! be warned!) Ryan/Summer fic by Bonnie D. called "Summertime", which you can check out at her livejournal website, screen name: bonnied. (Sorry, I can't post full http addresses here. Make sure you scroll to the bottom to start reading chapter one. Again, it's a hell of a lot more hot and heavy that I ever could write, and if I could, well, I would be blushing.) And… onwards, Chino-style!

**Chapter Seven**

Summer was thinking. Hard. Because although she used to have time to think passively as Seth was trying to do what he called 'foreplay' on her neck, or ears, or wherever, now she didn't have any free time on her hands like that. It was damned Ryan, with his damned experience, that led her to forget where she was and how to spell her last name and all of that, and most of the time, he really only needed to use one hand.

It felt exciting and forbidden, although it really wasn't, seeing as how Mr. and Mrs. Cohen weren't around much, tending to the business of some guy they called 'Uncle Sean'. 

But anyway. 

It was nice to have what she considered her one last fling before 'settling down' with Seth in some sort of monogamous relationship. Kind of like a bachelorette party, but without the stripping for money. Just stripping, on both Ryan and Summer's parts. 

For Ryan, it was easy to declare to himself that he was just plain bored for the summer, and since there was a willing participant to relieve him of that boredom, well, he'd be crazy not to take her up on her offer. 

And so, with some heavy spooning, petting, and groping, they managed to make it through the days.

Seth and Marissa were just about the farthest things from their minds. Instead, Ryan and Summer tried to remain as ignorant of the outside world as possible. There should be consequences, of course, but this was only for the summer, and what happened in summer stayed in summer. It was like Mexico, but without the drugs and the sex. 

Okay, now and then, there was some booze.

It was another restless night and both of them were lying in bed shirtless. They were playing footsie, which was quite a challenge since their legs were entangled. Their favourite show was on T.V., the place was quiet, the lights were down low, and a light breeze was blowing through the window. It would be a perfect night for something that couples like to do, but Ryan and Summer were not a couple and they were most certainly not doing it.

Then Summer looked at Ryan, and he looked back at her, and they were blushing (almost) at the realization that they both really just wanted to get it on with each other. It had been easy for Ryan to just convey it with a look, and Summer had already picked the habit up from him.

But, they couldn't.

It wasn't because they didn't want to.

And it wasn't because there was something physically wrong with them (and trust me, Summer could easily attest to Ryan's capabilities).

No. 

It was because there was this big fat line that they couldn't cross, even if they were being two really shitty friends already.

So, their interaction was painful: it was going all the way, yet not. It was getting excruciating close, but pulling away at the last second. And oh, they both tried their damnedest to satisfy themselves and each other. Frequently. Like tonight, for instance.

And when they were both spent, Summer laid on top of Ryan and sighed. Contentedly or out of frustration, however, it was hard to tell.

"Yeah. I know." Ryan grinned cockily. 

Summer scoffed, and rolled her eyes. Maybe Ryan was going to turn into just another Luke, after all. "Shut it, Chino."

He drew lazy circles on her stomach and whispered, "Thank you."

Summer could only smile and settle herself into his broad arms. This was comfortable. She could almost get used to this half-way point, this place they had to compensate for.

But suddenly the phone rang and Ryan had to shift away from Summer awkwardly to reach the receiver. He answered hesitatingly, and she saw his face darken. When he hung up, and she shot him an inquisitive glance, all he could mutter was, "Seth's coming back. Soon."

Then Summer's eyes widened and Ryan tried to look away, as they both realized that what they briefly had was over.


	8. Eight

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Seriously, you guys, your reviews made my day. I'm so glad that the last chapter sounded okay, and I guess rewriting it was a good idea after all. I'm just going to keep writing writing writing, and hopefully I'll write enough chapters to be able to take a break for my term papers (which are due at the end of this month!), and still update. Anyway, no use delaying the chapter any longer. Again, please read and review, because I would be eternally grateful. And… onwards! 

**Chapter Eight**

Seth returned with much fanfare, and the Cohen family decided to celebrate with a big lavish dinner. Because although Seth would like to say that over the summer, he had grown up and matured, he still didn't have a damn clue how to cook and ended up starved and basically malnourished for the duration of his vacation, living off of takeout and junk food.

Only Ryan, Seth, Kirsten, and Sandy were present, all together in some big show of family support. The happy mood took an abrupt turn when Seth inquired about what Ryan did all by himself while he was away.

Ryan noticed the wary looks Kirsten and Sandy exchanged, but tried to ignore them. "Nothing much, really. Summer –" And at the mention of her name, he had to pause momentarily to collect his thoughts. "– stopped by a couple of times to look for you. I hung out with her when I was bored, and uh, we didn't do much anyway. And I made some progress on the ninja game and discovered T.V. Uh… but yeah, nothing new." He shrugged for emphasis. 

Seth looked surprised. "And apparently, you've discovered the joy of speech. Welcome to the club, my friend. Membership is five dollars, but I'll waive the fee if you can guess the secret password."

Ryan could only sheepishly agree. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it."

Then the doorbell abruptly rang and Rosa the housekeeper went to get it, only to return with Summer. 

"Oh! I'm totally sorry, I didn't know you guys were still, like, eating dinner. I'll come back when it's more convenient." Summer, embarrassed and a little uncharacteristically flustered, turned towards the front door, when Seth jumped up from his seat. Ryan tried to focus on spearing the takeout egg rolls with his fork. 

"Wait! Summer! I need to talk to you. I…" Seth (yes, _Seth_) was at a loss as to what to say next. 

Sandy got the hint and motioned for Summer to stay. "Actually, Kirsten and I were just about to go upstairs and review some plans for, ah… the new restaurant. Right, KiKi?" He grinned cheekily.

Kirsten, a little annoyed that he would use that hateful nickname, just smiled politely at Summer and nodded. She would get her 'revenge' on Sandy for that later. 

The two left, and then there were three.

The room was silent, while Ryan pushed his food around the plate and Seth looked at Summer expectantly. All she could do was sigh and follow him into his room.

Ryan couldn't help but feel disappointed somehow. Damn takeout. It always gave him heartburn.

Seth and Summer were in his room with the door closed behind them, and she already knew what he was going to say. In fact, she had had time to review the scenario about a million times before she decided to impulsively barge into the house, but she let him have some time to talk. She found that he liked talking, and it would be cruel to deny him that right.

"Look, Summer, I'm sorry I just left like that, but I just needed some time to think, and I thought you needed some time too, and, well, I'm just really sorry, and I know you hate me and think I'm this horrible, evil person, but I just hope you can forgive me and –"

Summer cut him off, which was a good thing, since he was about to run out of breath. "I know." 

A bit confused at the flatness of her answer, he added, "Did I mention I was sorry? Because I can say it in Spanish. And French. And if you give me a couple of seconds with the computer, I could probably say it in Klingon." 

Seth was about to start rambling again out of nervousness, so Summer decided to just get it over with. She had thought about it, sleepless for all of last night, and she knew what she had to do.

She had to break up with him. She didn't know where this new moral compass came from, but, dammit, it really wasn't fair to either of them to continue their relationship despite her cheating on him with Ryan. If she didn't tell him, it would be this hovering deadweight hanging over her head, and she had thought she could manage it, but she just, well, couldn't. And if he knew the truth, it would break his heart even more so than the words she had to say right now.

"Seth… There isn't, like, an easy way for me to say this, so I'm just going to say it. This. Us. It can't work. I'm sorry, but I just can't do this anymore."

Seth looked dumbfounded for a moment, then stricken with grief. "I… I don't understand. I thought that –"

Summer felt the hot tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cohen."

Seth looked straight at her and haltingly proclaimed, "But Summer. I…" And here, his voice cracked.

"I love you."


	9. Nine

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Ooh. The thot plickens. I'd just like to thank everyone for their reviews so far! I'd been scared that this story would be one of those that was left forgotten with like 7 reviews and then I wouldn't have a reason to finish it, but wow. 44! That's good enough for me (hee). And, I'm going to stop rambling now… onwards (okay, so I need a new catchphrase)!

**Chapter Nine**

Summer couldn't hold back her tears. Secretly, she'd always been a really emotional person, and normally it would get channelled into rage blackouts. However, this time was different. She was breaking up with the first person who ever really gave his heart to her, and there was a time when she had felt the same towards him.

Seth just stood there, stunned at what he had just let slip. But Summer had to know what he had inevitably realized on those lonely nights when he pictured himself sailing to Tahiti. That he loved her. And he was never again letting her go and doing something stupid like leave her all alone for two months to fend for herself.

Her whole idea to break up must have been something she dreamed up to get back at him. Deep down, underneath her snarky exterior, he knew she really loved him, too. Right?

Regaining control of herself, Summer hastily wiped her face with her sleeve, uncaring that she was taking half her makeup along with it. "I'm sorry," she whispered for the last time before opening the door and escaping to her car, leaving behind a very broken-hearted Seth.

He didn't miss the irony in the fact that this would be the first and last time she would ever apologize to him.

He contemplated going after her, but decided he was too exhausted, so instead he just sat on his bed and stared dully at the floor. He couldn't understand what had just happened. It wasn't supposed to be like that. It wasn't supposed to have ended the way it did. Seth suspected that there was something influencing her decision other than his leaving for the summer.

And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he would want to know what it was.

Maybe he was just a sucker for punishment.

In the meantime, Ryan brooded in the pool house. After the day's turmoil of seeing Seth, then Summer (_especially_ Summer), he felt a little beat up inside, a little worse for wear. It would be better if he could deal with it with the companionship of his old friend Jack Daniels, but Ryan was better than that now. He would just have to imagine that the shot glasses in front of him were actually brimming with alcohol, then. 

If anything, Ryan mused, what he really wanted was a sense of normalcy. Because for someone who moved to Newport and into the Cohen's pool house as an alternative to his turbulent violence-ridden past, well, he was getting into a different kind of drama here anyway. What he needed to do was leave Summer alone, so she could make up with Seth, and the poor boy from Chino could be alone again. Being alone was a bitch, but at least Seth would be happy, and that's all that really mattered to Ryan. He _owed_ Seth. A lot. 

And he'd be damned if he'll let himself get carried away with his feelings for Summer.

And so, with his back turned to the window, he didn't see her stumble out of the mansion and into her car, then drive away. 

And if he had looked, and seen her there, it would have been the last time he would ever see her that summer, because Seth was his 'brother', and you didn't hang out with the girl who broke his heart. And you especially didn't still think about her, even though you couldn't help it. 

When Luke returned, they hung out together in the pool house, just them guys. Sometimes Marissa would stop by and make an occasional pass at Ryan, but nothing really came of it. Summer avoided everyone else, of course, even Marissa, because it was hard for her to look her in the eye. 

Seth was usually moody, and Ryan pensive, and Luke just had to wonder what the hell was going on with his friends. He didn't know whether it was the school year, or girls, or what. He had hoped it wasn't too serious, because now that all of them were single, he wanted to hit the party scene. With Seth's adorkable good looks, Ryan's mysterious good looks, and his all-American good looks, the three would be an unstoppable force!

But with the others moping around like that, well, there was no chance for any action at all.

Then Caleb Nichol broke up with Julie Cooper (through _Kirsten_, no less!), and Luke began to realize how wrong he really was.

And so, he had a little romantic tryst of his own.


	10. Ten

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Okay. So I threw in the Luke/Julie. So sue me. (But you can't, because I'm broke. Hah!) And okay, it's getting a bit (only a _bit_? Yeah right) angsty and perhaps a little unrealistically so, but oh well. I'm trying. This chapter, I experimented with a different character focus, which I kind of like. I'm thinking of covering all of the Newport teens. This might be taking some of the focus off of Ryan and Summer, though not for long… But I swear, you guys, I'm getting addicted to reading your reviews. After reading even one I just get all warm and fuzzy inside. And I remind you of Hemingway, Liz? Wowee. Thanks a bunch, everyone! Onwards… (Oh, plus: any one excited about the new ep this week, _finally_? I know I am!)

**Chapter Ten**

Marissa couldn't really understand what was making Summer mope around so much. I mean, sure, she had just broken up with her boyfriend (the reason for which, Marissa also had no idea about), and she had really tried to comfort her over the weeks.

But, she felt, in the sort of best friend way where it was okay to criticize as long as one was being honest, that Summer, essentially, made her own bed and had to lie in it. After all, it was _Summer_ who did the breaking up, so the only person who should really be pining away was Seth, and Marissa had already had a first-person taste of Sad, Sorry, Pathetic Seth.

The real matter at hand was a certain short, wifebeater-wearing, fight-starting, cigarette-smoking (yes, she had got him to quit, and now he had started that nasty habit again) Ryan Atwood. Who, currently, had not been giving her the time of day lately. 

Now Marissa had had a lot of time to think about the situation while she was jetsetting around Europe with her mom and what's-his-name (Eric? Gregory? Lance?). She had called Summer to obtain weekly updates on Ryan and his whereabouts, and especially his hang-abouts with any girls in particular. She had watched her mother carefully with Eric/Gregory/Lance and seen how he could be ordered around like a little lapdog, paying for the two women's expenses without a care in the world.

Of course, it probably helped that he had the money to spend, and more, but still.

Julie Cooper had a way with men, and Marissa wanted to learn. 

It didn't matter that she hated her mother at the moment, or that her mother was considered to be a Newport slut (of course, she had heard _those_ rumours). What really mattered was for her to finally get Ryan to forgive her, so they could return to being the rich-girl/poor-boy power couple at Harbour. Yes, she knew they weren't really a _power_ couple before, but she was really sure that they could pull it off, her and him.

If only Ryan would look at, or even _speak_, to her. 

Marissa sighed at this thought, and returned to examining herself in the mirror. She was slender enough, right? And it's not like she had big hips, or, God forbid, some sort of horrible skin condition (something she had been terrified of ever since watching a National Geographic special). She would have liked to ask Julie for advice, but she noted that her mother had been increasingly busy lately, doing errands and God knows what.

In the meantime, Seth couldn't really understand what was making Ryan mope around so much. He thought he was already over Marissa, way past her, although he noticed that his 'brother' hadn't met someone new yet.

He had tried to keep in touch with Ryan over the summer, making sure to call him and update him on his condition every few days or so, but it had been hard. Every phone call he made, he would want to talk about Summer, and would have to stop himself from mentioning her name, or even the word 'summer'. And then Seth would occasionally forget to call, and this progressed to only random messages. Seth understood that he really needed to make up for some lost 'guy time' with Ryan. 

Of course, it would help if the boy wasn't so engrossed with watching the latest episode of _The Valley_.

Seth was a bit annoyed with Ryan's lack of attention (I mean, hello! Currently depressed 'sibling' here!) He should have at least been offering advice on how to get over Summer (or get her _back_), or slandering her to make him feel better. 

But, no. Colin was more important than Seth right now. 

Colin! A fictional character! 

And plus, Seth never knew Ryan was so interested in _The Valley_. 

If anything, he should watch a 'telenovela' first, just to get the hang of it. 

Seth introduced Summer to 'telenovela's, didn't he?

And… shit, at the thought of Summer, Seth remembered that he really just wanted to curl up in his bed and cry – er, create saltwater in a very, very manly way – for oh, the rest of his natural-born life.

Ay. _Dios mio_.


	11. Eleven

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: This focuses more on Seth's angst, just because I felt it was kind of neglected in Chapter Ten (actually, a few reviewers didn't like the Seth/Marissa focus, but I mean, ex-girl/boyfriends don't just disappear when you hook up!). But don't worry, this story is about Ryan and Summer, and it will focus on them. I think… In the future… Uh… Let me get back to you on that. Anyway, if you review, I'll be indebted to you, and did I mention reviews make me happy? Plus, I'm trying to get over this really bad haircut (bangs + poufy wavy hair = me getting emotional) so please? Make me feel better? puppy dog eyes And I mean, the chapter's long this time. Okay, long_er_. But, short chapters means you get 11 chapters in 2 weeks. That's gotta be a good thing, right? Ah well. Onwards!

**Chapter Eleven**

Captain Oats was trying to achieve a moment of epiphany. 

The facts, to him, didn't make much sense. He used to be able to visit Princess Sparkle all the time, and frolic with her on some wide expanse of astroturf meadow, but for some reason, Seth never took him to see her anymore. Oats wracked his little plastic head for said reason, but it was quite difficult, as he had been shoved under a pillow and was laying there, briefly forgotten.

Likewise, Seth was burrowed in his bed, with the covers pulled tightly above him, and Death Cab playing softly in his room. He was gradually running out of oxygen, but, oxygen wasn't Summer. So he didn't care much. 

He couldn't believe he told her he loved her. Of _course_ she'd react like he had suddenly turned into a leper or something. It was just too early in the relationship for him to spout love sonnets, and now he had blown it. 

Surprise, surprise, Seth Cohen had managed to fail at yet another undertaking in life. He dwelled silently on this thought in the sanctity of his bed. 

He could hear thumping as someone came up the stairs, and Seth really didn't want any company right now. "Go away! I'm studying… naked!"

Of course, with the covers above his head, it sounded more like: "Gnn awnnh! Mm stuhdin… kuh!"

So, without warning, Ryan burst into the room.

Seth groaned. He really should have that lock fixed so it could be put to use. What if he really was studying naked? Err… not that he did, of course.

"Uh, Kirsten said that dinner's ready, and uh, you should really eat something. It's been two days –"

"Not hungry," Seth grumbled. 

Ryan regarded him warily. "Look, man, I know you're depressed and all, but –"

"I'm not hungry, okay?" Seth snapped. "Sometimes I like to live like Gandhi and fight the power and keep the peace and all that. So leave me alone and just… I'd like to be alone right now."

Ryan, a little hurt, decided to do just that and leave, but not before making a mental note to bring Seth some dessert later. The boy needed to eat something, and besides, he could never resist some apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Then again, who could?

Later, with dinner over, Ryan laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Fingering his wrist cuff, he absently counted the number of stucco bumps dotting the surface.

One, two, three, four…

He sincerely felt sorry for Seth. The boy had a way of regarding everything as a matter of life and death, and for him to lose the one girl he'd fantasized about ever since grade school, well, it's a damn tragedy.

Not to mention _why _Summer would break up with him. It wasn't because of Ryan, of course. Hadn't they agreed that it was just for the summer? Maybe it was the guilt, because believe you me, he was definitely getting the sinking feeling that what he had been feeling wasn't heartburn. He wondered if Seth had noticed. Lately, it had been hard for Ryan to look at him, let alone talk to him, and now Ryan was wondering whether it was possible to bring himself to do as he should and console the poor boy. 

At first he thought he could pull through for Seth's sake, but it was getting harder not to think about Summer. They had hung out together practically every day, and now, they just… weren't doing that anymore. 

Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six…

So if it wasn't heartburn, what was it? Maybe it was just the sensation of having to get used to her absence. Regardless of whether he cared about her or not, it would still feel a bit weird at first, but eventually he'd get used to it. The feeling was like breaking in a new pair of sneakers. So this would make Summer… his old pair of sneakers.

Okay. Ryan could get used to this analogy. But then instead of picturing dirty sneakers, he could only picture pristine white ones. Then strappy sandals, then bare foot, with his gaze trailing up a shapely tanned leg that… Wait. The whole point of this exercise was _not_ to think about her, right? 

Oh shit, he just lost count. One, two, three, four…

This was too weird.

Ryan welcomed the distraction when the phone suddenly rang. 

All he heard on the other end was heavy breathing. "Hello?" he asked warily. "Uh, anyone there?"

"Ryan?" Summer said, almost disbelievingly.

"What, you were expecting Seth?" he retorted. 

She fell momentarily silent at this comment. "Um, no. So. Like. Um," she stammered.

"Yeah?"

"Like, um, hey." 

"Hey," he replied.

The two remained speechless. All they could hear was the other's ragged breathing. 

"Ryan, I…" She sighed. "I'll talk to you later."

At the sound of the dialtone, Ryan regretfully placed the phone in its cradle. Noticing a shadow, he looked up and saw Sandy standing before him.

"Mind if we talk?" 


	12. Twelve

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Okay, for some reason the chapters are getting longer. I don't know if this is just a weird freakish coincidence, or if it's because I threw out my old story plan and am essentially writing blindly, but… yeah. Please enjoy this. I guess I'll dedicate this chapter to all the new future O.C. eps (there's like, what? 5 episodes more 'til the season finale?) and the 'regular' reviewers, bop1997, Candy.07, BlueStarGirl, and OcFan4u. Thanks you guys! And hey, if any of the rest of you want to be mentioned in AN's, I guess you'll just have to review! wink wink nudge nudge Ooh, onwards!

**Chapter Twelve**

Summer hung up the phone, and buried her face in her pillow. God, she was pathetic. Calling Ryan up, no rhyme or reason to it, just because… 

Well, she didn't know at the moment, but she was sure it couldn't have been good. 

There was no one she could really talk to at this point. Seth or Marissa, obviously, would be the wrong choice. Ryan, well, that's whom her whole dilemma was about. She even contemplated talking to _Luke_, of all people. I mean, a few months ago, this thought would have warranted an emphatic "Ew!" But even he was strangely busy lately, doing some odd jobs ("To gain some experience," he had said) and God knows what.

So. She was all alone (with the exception of Princess Sparkle, of course). 

She had grown used to this feeling before, but at least she had been popular and had fake friends.

Now she was a social leper with _no_ friends, not even the shitty kind.

What had happened? Probably Seth, although cheerleaders to this day still swoon about the day they announced their relationship standing atop of a coffee cart. And she could have made her re-debut in the summer, you know, shown up looking totally hot at one of Holly's parties to take back her popularity, but… well, _Ryan_ happened. 

And in the worldview that she currently possessed, she was better off with him than with Holly or any other one of those bimbos. 

Yes. This could work. If she could only salvage some form of a relationship with Ryan, she'd be alright and emotionally strong enough to get out of bed and master the basics of grooming. Because while she knew breaking up with Seth was the _right_ thing to do, that fact sure as hell didn't make her feel any better. Just remembering how he had told her he loved her… 

But he didn't mean it, right? I mean, they were still young. As opposed to Ryan and Marissa's relationship with the broken childhood, the criminal record, the suicide attempt, and the crazy Oliver situation, Seth and Summer were still child-like, in their own right (okay, they had sex, but it wasn't like, depraved or something). Seth probably had no idea what he was saying really meant, and Summer was sure that he would eventually forgive her for breaking his heart.

Then the phone rang, and it was Marissa. "Sum," she whined. "I need Ryan back. It's been three weeks and I'm getting desperate."

Summer had to refrain from rolling her eyes, even though Marissa wouldn't have seen it. She knew her best friend was already over him; in fact, she had met someone in London and even casually fooled around with him ("Because he reminded me so much of Ryan," she had said). 

But it was coming back from Heathrow, and knowing that there was still one person in the world who disliked her, that made Marissa change her mind. She couldn't stand knowing someone was mad at her. It was disheartening, to say the least. So, if he could just forgive her, and if she could make it up to him by giving him the trusting relationship he never had with her, then, the world would be right again.

At least, that was Marissa's reasoning. 

Summer didn't know if wanting everyone to like you was a good trait or bad, but it applied to Marissa, and she had to be comforted, or else neither of them would get a good night's sleep. 

It was just really hard to forget what Ryan could do with his hands, that's all.

In the meantime, though, he was having a little discussion with Sandy, one that really didn't involve said 'skill'. At least not yet.

"That was Summer, wasn't it?" Sandy looked at Ryan expectantly.

He wondered why Sandy asked questions he already knew the answers to. Ryan felt like a witness being cross-examined, with the odds stacked against him. He just decided to reply with a look, one that could be understood universally. You know, the one that read 'back off, even though you're absolutely right'.

"Ah… I see." Sandy sat down next to Ryan. "And how do you feel about her?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Words, Ryan. It's a new concept, but very revolutionizing."

"I don't know."

"Well, how does she feel about you?"

"Dunno," he mumbled.

Sandy sighed. "Well, are you together?"

Ryan snorted. "Not likely."

"What about in the summer? Were you _together_ together?" It's a hard thing to do, making Ryan choke on his own saliva, but Sandy managed it with the implications of his last statement. "C'mon, Ryan. Kirsten and I weren't blind. We would have _liked_ to be deaf at certain points –" 

And here Ryan wished he could be doing anything else but having this conversation.

"– but anyway. We know something was going on."

Ryan regarded him suspiciously. "And you're okay with it? I mean, Seth's your _son_. I'm just the guy who was supposed to be his friend, and ended up with his girlfriend."

Sandy shook his head. "I know how I reacted before. I didn't say that we were completely against it. But I'm not saying that we are completely okay with it. What I meant was… Ryan, you still don't understand, do you? Yes, Seth's our son, and yes, the situation with Summer is complicated, but you need to remember that you're _our son too_. We still love you and we want what's best for you, even if she's Seth's ex-girlfriend."

Ryan glanced at him in surprise. "But I –"

Sandy finished, "Kirsten and I have already discussed this numerous times. Seth will get over it. We Cohen men _always_ do. It's in our genes, just like my very regal eyebrows. And besides, I always felt Summer was more well-suited with you. She's shorter, isn't she?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Ryan was just speechless at how casual Sandy made his very serious problem sound. However, he was mistaken. The conversation was about to get _very_ serious.

"Anyway. Ryan, this summer… you two were using protection, right? Because as distinguished as I look, I wouldn't want to be a grandpa so soon." 

Oh. 'The talk'. He had heard of how incredibly awful it was for Seth, and Ryan respectively disagreed.

It was _more_ than awful. It was downright horrifying. 

Ryan opened his mouth to protest that Sandy had jumped to conclusions, that he and Summer didn't… But Sandy would have none of that. He took Ryan's discomfort to mean that he was just embarrassed at having his summer exploits discussed in such great detail. However, this didn't mean that Sandy was going to stop delivering his long-winded version of 'the talk'.

Oh no. He was just getting started.


	13. Thirteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Gah. I've attempted to write this chapter so many times already. It's this weird writer's block I'm having, or maybe it's because I actually tried delving in to the Mind of Marissa Cooper. It's a creepy thing, people! I'm getting the heebie-jeebies just _thinking_ about it. And I was really pushing to get some length to my chapters, so… oy. Please tell me what you think (and thanks for all the encouraging reviews)! Onwards…

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Coop!" Summer yelled. "Over here!"

Marissa immediately recognized her best friend's voice over the roar of the crowd. She pushed through the large mass of people milling around Harbour on the first day back to school, and made her way to the secluded corner where Summer was waiting.

"Hey Sum." 

They hugged, and Summer stood back, admiring her friend's new haircut. 

"Bangs, Coop? I mean, they're nice, they like, make you look younger, I guess. But… bangs?"  
  


Marissa smiled briefly, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. Sometimes Summer was so clueless about these matters, and she couldn't very well tell her the whole truth yet. Bangs were just the beginning. 

She had realized this when she had wracked her brain all summer for an answer. There should have been nothing standing in the way of her and Ryan getting back together. Nothing at all. She was smart, and pretty, and skinny, and nice to everyone. She had tried to be perfect, and she almost succeeded, if it weren't for the anorexia, the shoplifting, the suicide attempt, and the depression. Nevertheless, she was considered to be quite a catch.

It was just too bad he didn't see it that way. 

This all began in an early morning, when she was curled up in a four poster bed at some five star hotel in Milan, having had no sleep that night, or even the previous night. She had just been dumped by Andrew (over the phone, no less), some guy she met in London, and she was plagued by familiar thoughts. Depressing thoughts. Her medication had been taken away by Julie, who was still painfully aware of what happened in Tijuana. There was no one Marissa could talk to, being that her friends across the ocean were still asleep due to the time difference, and simple English speech seemed to have eluded her newly appointed European therapist. She only had herself to rely on now, to figure out the facts.

First Luke. Then Ryan. Then Oliver. Then Andrew. It didn't seem to add up. They all seemed to be good prospects at first, all good-looking, pretty well-off, with complementing personalities. And they all satisfied her slightly varying tastes. The safe and secure blue-eyed blonde. The mysterious outsider with a past. The troubled and problematic youth. The lovable scoundrel with a sexy accent. Either way, though, her relationships with them always ended in the most painful way possible. 

She didn't really know why everything always self-imploded. Either the guy would mess up by cheating on her or waving a gun at her or dumping her out of the blue, or she would mess up by not trusting him. 

She just didn't understand. She'd seen how easy it was for Summer and Seth to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, even if sometimes Summer treated him like shit, and what great guys her old boyfriends could be on their own, but…?

And suddenly, Marissa was struck by this terrifying thought that seemed to have come out of nowhere: there must be something wrong with _her_. 

It all made sense now. Seth and Summer, and everyone else… she was different from them. She was flawed in a way, broken, not quite right. 

Maybe she suffered an unhappy repressive childhood, like Dr. Seymour said. Or maybe there was something wrong with her physically, like her hippocampus wasn't connected right (or something else that the doctor said – Marissa sort of tuned him out whenever he started to babble about anything remotely scientific). It didn't matter what the cause was, though. She had to be fixed somehow. Maybe if she changed, yes, if she was a different person, a _better_ person, maybe, just maybe… she sighed hopefully. This would work. This _had to_ work. 

The very next day, Marissa found a reputable enough hairdresser, and set her plan into motion. 

But Summer couldn't know about all of this. Not yet. Not when she wasn't entirely confident that her plan would work. Because if it didn't, Summer would just look at her with that sad look in her eyes, and sigh, "Oh Coop." Marissa knew that Summer wouldn't be able to understand this feeling of incredibly deep longing for another person, even though she had recently experienced a bad break-up herself. 

Marissa didn't want her pity. She didn't want failure. She'd loved and lost too many times already, and Ryan was going to be the exception. She was sure of it.

Right now, though, she had to smile (albeit half-heartedly) and nod to whatever Summer was talking about, easily tuning her chatter out. Summer's talk about Prada could wait another day. Marissa had more pressing matters to think about… And speak (or think) of the devil! She spotted Ryan waving to Seth and Luke before splitting up with the group, heading left towards some hallway.

He was alone. Perfect. 

She urgently interrupted Summer in mid-sentence, quickly muttering an "I'll talk to you later" before chasing Ryan down. 

Marissa didn't have a moment to lose.

Summer, meanwhile, looked quizzically at the spot where her best friend _was_ standing. Ah well. She had grown weary of gushing about Prada, or Louis Vuitton, or some other brand name, she couldn't really keep track of them. She suddenly noticed that it had grown strangely quiet around her. Wait… what time was it, anyway?

Shit! She was going to be late!

She quickly scanned her schedule, noting that she had English for first period. Oh, just great. One of her worst subjects, first thing, every other morning for the rest of the year. She stumbled into her classroom, and the teacher, Mrs. Wexler, glared at her.

"Ah. Summer. Glad to see you took time out of your busy schedule to join us. Would you like to take a seat?" She motioned to the only other empty seat in the classroom. Right next to Ryan.

Summer swore under her breath. She had forgotten about karma. And now it was coming back to bite her in the ass. 


	14. Fourteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Hoo boy, more angst coming up. I hope I'm not beating a dead horse with a stick here, so please tell me if I am. I was just wondering though, how _can_ one write O.C. fanfiction realistically without having some clichéd angst in there somewhere? It's impossible (unless you're totally talented, unlike me)! I mean, the O.C. as a show was meant to be 90210, soap opera-ish, so, non-OOC fanfiction should be the same, right? Bah. And, just a note, in my nice fictional world, teachers start lecturing on the first day of school and aren't nice enough to let you off with just an outline of the course for the rest of the year. Saw the O.C. episode on Monday, and I have to say, thumbs up all around (although way too much screen time is being devoted to Marissa. Psh. rants) Uh… oh yeah, onwards!

**Chapter Fourteen**

While the teacher was droning on about fallen heroes and fatal flaws, Summer's mind drifted to another fallen hero. Ryan Atwood.

She snuck glances at him out of the corner of her right eye, willing him to remain oblivious of her, and yet, hoping that he would just look at her, even for a second, at least to acknowledge her presence or something. Could the lecture really be _that_ interesting? (Duh, of course not!) He must hate her then. With a burning passion. With the fire of a lot of suns. With the heat of a chili pepper. (Chili pepper? Ew. Okay, see, she knew there was a reason she hated English class.) 

But she wasn't the only one who had missed him. Speaking of Marissa, Summer wondered whatever possessed the girl to just run off like that. Coop never did that often, unless she saw Oliver… or Ryan. 

That made sense, she reasoned, Marissa wanting to see him and talk to him. Perfect sense. He had been her white knight in shining armour, and she would never let him go. Marissa was possessive like that, Luke being a prime example. Summer didn't remember him having any success with the Harbour girls after they broke up, even before it was known that his dad was gay. 

But Ryan was different from Luke. Marissa never smiled around him, not in that special way that showed that she was really truly happy. Oh no. That look was reserved for Ryan. Summer wanted her best friend to be happy, especially after all that she had gone through with her personal life. She deserved it. 

So why did Summer feel so unsettled at that thought? She sighed softly, and snuck another look at Ryan. He was staring straight back at her. Caught off-guard, Summer turned a little pink, then whipped her head around to the left and pretended to admire the classroom wall art. 

Ryan almost snorted. _That_ wasn't obvious. 

He wondered what happened to the old Summer, the one who would probably just stare right back, challenging him to break his gaze. The Summer that was snarky. The Summer that he had disliked. But that was all different now, especially after his talk with Sandy. So now he didn't dislike her? Which meant that he liked her? And this meant that…

"Ryan!" Mrs. Wexler looked a bit annoyed. "Why don't you tell the class what a hyperbole is?"

Ryan quickly replied with the correct answer. Sometimes this was just too easy.

When English class was over, and then math, Ryan headed off to study hall. After he saw Summer there also, he decided to make his move. 

They had to talk, and it was now or never. Frankly, over the past few days, Ryan had been feeling confused. Now, Seth would joke and say that Ryan was _always_ confused, but that wasn't the point. Ryan didn't like feeling this way. He had been confused an awful lot lately, and it wasn't doing his psyche any favours. His emotions were tied up in the time he had shared with Summer, with Seth, with their breakup, and he felt as if he really needed to know _why_. If not for his sake, then for Seth, who could finally get some closure instead of moping around the house all day in his Spongebob jammies. 

Ryan slowly approached Summer. "Mind if we talk?" he asked, bringing to mind Sandy's exact same question and its implications. 

Her eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure and coolly replied, "Sure." 

She stood up and they walked through the library, shielding themselves from view behind a shelved array of old scientific magazines no student ever bothered to read. 

"So," Ryan said in a hushed whisper, deciding to get straight to the point, "why did you break up with Seth?"

Summer visibly flinched. "None of your business, Chino!" she snapped. She was definitely on guard now. Old Summer was back.

"It didn't have anything to do with what we did this summer, did it?" He pressed on, hoping to receive a legitimate response.

"No." There was silence. "Maybe."

Ryan looked at her, a little shocked. He felt strangely energized, in anticipation. 

"I don't know!" she protested. "I just… it was just… it was wrong for us to be together, okay?" She didn't know whether she meant Seth or Ryan.

"Summer." He took her by the shoulders. "Why?"

"I don't…" She looked miserable.

"He said he loved you!"

Her lower lip quivered. "I know."

Ryan couldn't comprehend what she was saying. Wasn't that what all girls wanted to hear? That their boyfriends loved them? That everything was safe and future happiness was ensured? "So why…" he trailed off when he saw tears form at the corners of her eyes. He could remember what Sandy said, could hear it echoing in his head. _And how do you feel about her_? 

Her. Summer. His 'brother's ex-girlfriend. His 'distraction' for the summer. She wasn't just that anymore. Not to him. 

"Summer…" he began again. When she looked up, he was struck by what she looked like, even with red eyes and a forlorn expression. She was beautiful.

Then somehow his hands worked their way up to her face, and he was kissing her.

And somehow she was kissing back, tears flowing for another entirely different reason. 

They didn't get any studying done that day, but it didn't matter all that much to either of them. 


	15. Fifteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Yeah! I'm such a tease. Letting this chapter take your mind off of the cheesiness of the last chapter, and plus, psh. Did you really think it would be easier for them after that? Darling, there are _always_ complications. By the way, this takes place like, a week after the last chapter. Harbour students are just really slow, hehe. Because the chapter is really short, I'll probably be updating like, tomorrow. So don't worry, be happy! Enjoy this last parting shot of Seth. The focus will be off of him for a few chapters… onwards. (Btw, CMangaFan, you should really check out the shipper thread at fanforum.com. It takes some manoeuvring and link-clicking, but totally worth it because there's tons of fanart/fiction/comments. And littleputz114, sorry to say that this won't be a Seth/Summer, but they won't be hard to find at fanfiction.net. Thanks again for everyone's reviews, though!)

**Chapter Fifteen**

Everyone had a theory as to why Seth and Summer, that emo geek and hot chick, the school's most romantic couple, had broken up. 

The rumours ran rampant. It first began when Holly noticed that they weren't sitting next to each other at lunch anymore, and she relayed this to Alexis.Alexis whispered to Tara at homeroom that, strangely, Sethummer were seen being uncharacteristically cool together, and Tara passed this on to Leah in science class, who quickly told her boyfriend, Brad, at lunchtime. Brad, who just happened to be on the water polo team, shared the tidbit with his teammates in the privacy of the locker room.

Liam then remarked, "Oh! Does this mean Summer's free?" 

That was when the entire school knew that Sethummer was no more, and all in the space of a day. Then came the speculation.

Holly thought that Seth was just too 'geeky', but Alexis argued that it was because he was too 'twitchy', whatever that meant. Tara blamed it on Seth's late trust fund, and Leah agreed, adding, "Because, I mean, 25? That is _so_ old." Brad made a joke about Seth being gay and Luke's influence; no one really understood it but everyone laughed at it anyway. And Liam wondered if Seth just couldn't 'perform'. 

But that didn't matter. In the end, they exchanged knowledgeable grins: "This means Summer's free."

Summer had thought that today would be a good day, considering how great it had started out with her first class. Then she found herself in a very familiar situation. 

Brad was propositioning her. Again.

"So… Summer. The water polo team's having another kissing booth fundraiser this year – yeah, I know, a bit earlier in the school year than usual. We're looking for a girl who's comfortable being paid to make out with a bunch of guys… Naturally, we thought of you. And since you're single and all now…"

It was subtle, but Summer could almost swear that he leered at her. Ew. And "_naturally_"? She felt offended, a bit irritated, and a whole lot of enraged. At herself. So this was how she presented herself to be? This is what everyone had seen her as? No wonder she became such a bitch. It also came as no surprise to her that Marissa was never treated like this. Marissa was the girl guys wanted to comfort, and Summer was the girl that they wanted to spoon. It was all very unsettling to her.

She promptly decided that she just wasn't going to stand for this anymore. She wasn't going to go back and be Summer the (Secretly Virginal) Slut. She was better than just some two-bit whore now. Seth showed her that. Ryan was showing her that. 

She smiled sweetly at Brad. His grin grew wider, and his expectations higher. "So, Summer? What do you think?"

Summer's sunny expression quickly vanished, replaced by a look of cold hard determination. "Hm, let me think about it. Uh… No! Jackass!" She resisted the urge to ground her heel into his foot, and stalked away, leaving Brad alone in the hallway, open-mouthed. Although she had had a perfect Neanderthal specimen standing there in front of her, she didn't want to miss science class. 

Next door, Mr. Anaranjado was trying to get his catatonic class to repeat after him in Spanish. "_Eduardo y Maria fueron a la ópera_… C'mon, people! Before the euro is replaced!"

Nobody understood the comment, so nobody made the effort to make fun of him. Except for Seth, of course. All of those years of 'telenovela's hadn't been wasted on him. It was too bad that he was too out of it to respond. 

He had seen Brad talking to Summer in the hallway, like last time. And like last time, he had hoped she would turn the kissing booth offer down, and declare her Sethummer status. But he had seen her give that trademark smile that used to make him melt, and he couldn't bear to watch the scene further. It had been weeks since their breakup. She wasn't his anymore. He couldn't call him hers anymore.

He had realized that already. So why did it still hurt so much?

If only Anna were here. She'd know what to do. She was always confident, always knew the answers, not like him. If Seth could just hear her sage wisdom one more time… But it would be crazy, and insensitive of him, to ask her about Summer. Not after the way they had ended things, and her hurried return to Pittsburgh. 

"Seth!"

His head snapped up. "Uh, yes?"

It was uncanny how teachers could so interrupt deep thought, in an institution that promoted the very thing. Then again, this was Newport. Who needed a proper education when you had a hefty trust fund?


	16. Sixteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: And what's (or who's – hee) Luke doing? Not a lot of people asked this, but he's an important part of the teen group dynamic, so I had to throw him in here. I know I'm delaying the Ryan/Summer stuff by trying to cover everyone, but I swear, this will all be relevant later. And is it wrong if I say that I just find writing Luke's POV a really fun activity? Oh, yeah, and squeals the number of reviews hit the 100 mark! Thanks _so_ much you guys, seriously. I'm really glad I have such generous reviewers! Okay, onwards (and expect a reward next time)…

**Chapter Sixteen**

Luke casually entered the pool house, his emotions on a high. He had been at the Mermaid Inn that morning, with a certain someone. Okay, not just a 'someone'. Julie Cooper. MILF extraordinaire. The ultimate fantasy.

It was hard not to get his boxers in a twist whenever he thought of her. And when he was actually with her, well, boxers were not needed. And speaking of which, the sex was hot, man. Like, _really _hot. He had discovered the reason why her hair was red, naturally or not.

And she wasn't like the other girls – er, women – he had gone out with. Marissa, Holly, all the girls at Harbour… They were so _complicated_. He didn't like the games they played, the ones when he had to guess at what they wanted to hear. Instead of "Let's hook up," he had to say, "Would you like to go out with me?" Instead of "Let's do it," he had to say, "I really like and admire you." Instead of "Ugh," he had to say, "Those pants don't make your butt look big, I swear."

It was a crude generalization, but it was the truth. Whenever he wanted something from them, and especially if that something concerned 'intimacy', he always had to overcompensate, to become considerate of their feelings. Sometimes he didn't even really like the girl herself, only for her body. Sometimes he really liked the girl. Either way, they all inevitably wanted to hear him say the same thing: "I love you."

Out of his entire dating and hooking up history, there was only one girl that he had felt tempted to say those three little words to. Marissa Cooper.

But that was all over now. He had been looking for a quick fix, a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and he had found that in Holly. He never expected Marissa to find him in Tijuana like that, never expected to lose her as quickly as he had. Especially to Ryan.

He had seen the looks the two had been exchanging, the looks of longing. At first, he tried to ignore it. Then all he could think about, irritably, was 'why don't you two just get a room?' It got under his skin, the way the boy from Chino could so sway his girlfriend like that.

Luke wasn't stupid; he wouldn't say that he was driven by Marissa to cheat on her, that he had no choice. But the way that she left him, at the first possible moment of fault on his part… How she had slept with him for the first time, how it was supposed to be so special, but it was all because she wanted to get back at Ryan… It made Luke feel used.

And he had resented her for that.

Once he had seen how happy Marissa and Ryan made each other, however, he began to change his mind. He saw how genuinely _happy_ she was with Ryan, how she became strong enough to face her personal demons. Then Oliver came along. Luke had noticed the very same looks between Marissa and Oliver, the secretive smiles. He didn't want Ryan to be hurt the same way he was, because, even though he was loath to admit it, he had actually found a friend in him. It ended badly anyway.

It was different this time. Somehow, Luke didn't find the idea of Marissa being single so appealing anymore. He didn't think that he'd really care about the Cooper name anymore. Then Julie came along.

It was weird. When she laughed, the corners of her sparkling eyes turned upward, Luke could have sworn she looked like Marissa. The two resembled each other uncannily, if you knew them well enough.

And oh, Luke definitely knew Julie well enough.

With her, Luke knew that there would be no complications. He didn't have to watch what he said around her (except when he had to refrain from calling her 'Mrs. Cooper') and when he told her that her ass looked fantastic in the dress she was wearing, he meant it. Their meetings were just an endless string of booty calls, and both of them understood that their 'relationship' (a loose term) wouldn't go farther than that. There was Marissa to think about, of course, not to mention Julie's ambitions.

No, they wouldn't go farther. They _shouldn't_. Which was why for the past few days, Luke was wondering about what he should tell her. That he cared about her. The thought scared him, because he was going to have to lay his soul bare (not to sound sappy or anything, but… that was what he was doing). He wanted to tell her that he had feelings for her, familiar ones that he had felt with Marissa.

Luke didn't know what it was about Cooper women that made him feel this way. Maybe it was in their genes.

Maybe he should wait until Caitlyn's a bit older to decide whom he liked best.

The thought made Luke chuckle. Okay, maybe not. Luke decided that he had done enough thinking for the day, and it was time to come back to Planet Earth. He spotted Ryan sitting on his bed, speaking softly into the phone. Was that a new girl? Did Ryan actually blush? Nah, must be the lighting.

Actually, though, Ryan had been surprising him an awful lot lately. He was brooding a lot less, and Luke could swear that he had started to pay more attention to his appearance. He'd been wearing clothes with a colour palette of something other than black, grey, or white; and don't get him started on the _accessories_. The leather wrist cuff, the nice watch…

At first this had come as a shock. Luke wanted to scream, "Who are you and what have you done with Chino?" and shake him roughly by the shoulders. But that feeling soon passed. Circumstances change. People change. Luke understood that now.

When Ryan noticed Luke loitering in the doorway, he quickly muttered, "Be there soon," and ended the phone call a bit anxiously. Luke grinned. Yep, it was definitely a new girl. He felt a bit proud of Ryan. Congratulations to him, for beginning to finally heal. He deserved it. If he ever felt like actually sharing about this mystery girl, maybe Luke could tell him about Julie. Maybe.

Now all that was left was for Seth to get a girl. That wouldn't be so hard, would it? All the comic books and that dinky little plastic horse would have to be burned, of course, then a couple of trips to the gym. And he could get a haircut, then some hair gel to tame those curls. Plus, he should really pluck those eyebrows. They were getting so out of control, it was scary. At the thought of Seth with Groucho Marx/Sandy Cohen eyebrows, Luke burst into laughter.

Ryan just gave him a strange look. Maybe Luke really should stop bleaching his hair – the chemicals must be getting to him. But anyway, what was important now was for Luke to leave so Ryan could race over to Summer's house. She had just called him, crying.

Something about her mom, she had said.


	17. Seventeen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Okay, I might have taken some liberties with the descriptions of certain places, and some legal stuff, but it's all for the greater good of the story! And I have to confess, I _really_ like this chapter (could it be because it's gone back to R/S? hell yeah!), so _please_ tell me what you think. My A/N is short today, so I figured I could finally take some time to thank all of the last three chapters' reviewers… 

littleputz114 – Hehe, thanks for reading even if you don't like the ship!

bens-baby – Aww, thanks. I try to make the endings a little more 'snappy', a little less 'cliffhanger'. 

OcFan4u – Lol, okay, I thought we were clear on the Ryan _will_ end up with Summer bit. It's just going to be a slow and difficult journey, that's all.

C – I know! Caitlyn. Oy. 

OC SccrGrl – Wow, um thanks! blushes I'm really glad people still take the time to check out the story even if they're S/S or R/M, because yeah, you can totally support two different ships at once. And I hope your eyes are recovering nicely!

Also thanks to: kate3635ca, bop1997, Candy.07, STLgrl05004, benzbabidoll, jZzRgRl13, BlueStarGirl, and abc123. All of you totally rock (and if I have spelt your name wrong or forgot to acknowledge you, I suck)! And onwards…

**Chapter Seventeen**

Ryan grimly rang the doorbell. Whatever it was that had upset Summer so much, he was sure it couldn't have been good. And when she led him into her house and upstairs to her room with the tell-tale signs of tearstained cheeks and red eyes, it was then that he realized the gravity of the situation. 

It struck him that this would be the second time in a brief period that he had seen Summer cry. Did he just have that effect on people, or what? He'd seen Seth cry. Summer cry. Luke, maybe once, he had gotten teary about his dad. And Marissa had cried. A lot. 

He had been to Summer's house so many times already (the pool house as a meeting place, obviously, was out of the question now). And still, he was always surprised that the house was so empty. And cold. With most of the lights off and the setting sun casting odd shadows through the windows, the effect was downright eerie. Everything was beige-coloured: the carpet, the walls, the furniture. It looked so bland and foreign. 

But it wasn't so unfamiliar to Ryan. If everything was white, and smaller, and you added a few stains from the leaking roof along with cast-off beer bottles to the side, well, it was his old house in Chino all over again. It had never felt like home, not with Dawn coming and going whenever she pleased, and Trey sometimes taking off for a whole week for some secret business. They treated each other like acquaintances merely living in the same house, and there were always secrets, because no one was trusted enough to keep them. 

He had grown up in a bad environment, and Ryan didn't like the resemblance Summer's supposed 'home' bore. 

At least he had the Cohens now; she didn't have anyone except for him and Marissa. Even though he was currently dating their daughter (in secret), Ryan had never even met her parents, or seen them around town. They were always busy with social engagements in faraway countries, again coming and going whenever they pleased. They probably only returned home so they could change the clothes in their suitcase. 

It didn't matter, Ryan realized. It didn't matter if you were rich or poor, Newport or Chino, young or old. You could still have shitty parents and a fucked up family life.

And now Summer was leading him by the hand to her bed, and they settled themselves in a comfortable position, him with one arm around her shoulders, her with both arms encircling his waist. 

She knew that they didn't need to talk if they didn't want to, that there would be no uncomfortable silences between them. But she needed to tell someone, and it would be nice if that someone were Ryan.

"That bitch," she spat out bitterly. "That bitch." She suppressed a sob.

There was no question as to whom she was talking about. Of course, they had talked about their respective (strictly biological) mothers in passing, but… this time, it felt different. All Ryan could do was tighten his hold around her. 

"All these years, and what has she done for me? Nothing. All these years of waiting, and wishing, and hoping, and… nothing. And –" Summer was starting to rant now, but she was holding herself back a little. This was Ryan's cue.

"Summer? You need to start making sense now," he stated bluntly. To anyone else, this would have been the wrong thing to say. Seth would have let her speech run its course. Marissa would have done the same. But if there was anything Ryan was sure of, it was that there was no use wallowing in your pain. It was futile to rant and waste your emotions on someone who didn't even care about you. He and Summer already knew that fact from years of experience of being ignored by their parents. 

He was being frankly honest now. That was what he knew Summer wanted.

"I got a phone call, Ryan. From her…"

"What?" he cut in, surprised.

"From her lawyer."

At this, Ryan had a sinking feeling in his heart. This was not good. This would not be good. 

"She's dead. Car accident." And then she laughed, the sound somewhat forced. 

He didn't know what to say anymore. If it had been Dawn…

"I was the only person on her will. I am now the proud owner of a New York City apartment, some furniture, a few stocks…" Summer listed the items, counting silently in her head. She felt numb now. Defeated. 

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Her lawyer said that I might want to go over there to clear out her things. And stay for the funeral." Summer was trembling, and Ryan could only hold her. He felt helpless somehow. "I was waiting for so long, Ryan," she whispered softly, and he had to strain to hear her. "I guess deep down, I always wanted her back. I wanted her _home_, with me, and I wanted a happy little family. And then she had to go and die… God, I'm such an idiot."

"Shh." Ryan faced her, and enveloped her in a warm hug. "You're not an idiot. You were just… disillusioned."

"Disillusioned? Well, there's a way of putting it." 

Ryan stroked her hair, glad to see that she could still make sarcastic remarks. It meant that she could get over this. They could get over this.

"You're the only person I've told, you know," she mumbled against his chest. "You're the only person I'm telling." She grew quiet again.

Ryan understood that this was an important moment. It was the perfect time for him to guide her back down and leave her lounging in her bed until she could get over her grief. Maybe he could tuck her in, kiss her forehead, leave her alone with her thoughts and give her space so she could recover independently. Alone.

But Ryan and Summer had been alone for over a decade. No more touchy-feely-I-don't-want-to-offend-you-so-I'll-tread-softly crap. It was time for a change. It was time for the both of them to grow up.

"Feel like a smoke?" he offered.

"Oh God yes." She could remember the bitter taste of the cigarettes she took comfort in when she was young.

He wiped off the last of her drying tears with his thumb and glanced around the brightly pink room. "Somehow, smoking in here doesn't feel appropriate."

She managed a smile. "I'm considering redecorating it. Any suggestions?"

"Yeah," he replied wryly. "No more pink."

She scoffed. "Smoke first, plan later." 

It was time for a change. It was time to grow up.


	18. Eighteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Yeah, you guys got what you wanted in the last chapter (although, ick. smoking = bad!). So I'm going to be crazy and give you Marissa, because the show is all about _her_ and she is the only character that matters (I'm being bitter here, btw). And oy, another long chapter. They seem to come in pairs or something. Onwards. (Thank you, reviewers! You errr… light up my life!)

**Chapter Eighteen**

Marissa could hear the moans coming from her mother's bedroom. She obsessively reminded herself to just find that blue skirt she was looking for and get the hell out of there, because those noises were unnerving. She made a mental note to transfer _all_ of her stuff to her dad's apartment so she wouldn't have to go through this again.

And then: "Oh, Luke."

She stopped in her tracks and stilled. What?

"Oh, Luke!" 

_What_?

That was Julie's voice, and that was Luke's name, and those were definitely moans, but Marissa's brain put two and two together painstakingly slow. This meant that… Which means that… So her mother and Luke were… Her eyes widened. _How could they do this to her_? 

And then she was overwhelmed with memories and images. She could see Luke and her in the seventh grade, and he was kissing her, and she was smiling, and everyone was giggling, and God, it was so awkward with the empty Coke bottle between them. Then when they were older, and they went to dances together, and she wore this pretty dress that everyone complimented, and he looked so cool and casual in his formalwear. And then they were even older, and he had his hand up her shirt, and she wanted to make Ryan angry, she wanted to make Ryan _sorry_, so she gave Luke what he wanted. It was sweet and endearing but now it was her mother in the bedroom with him under the covers and they were doing the same thing, but it was different in a way and Marissa didn't know why. 

She needed to run but her feet were planted firmly in the carpet and her heart was pounding. She felt as if her heart straining against her ribcage, as if it would burst.

Marissa didn't know whether they could hear her, but she didn't exactly care right now. This was unbelievable. This was something she had never expected. Luke was her first… He was her first _everything_. She had thought that she could just put him aside, lock him away in her heart, and end that chapter of her life. When she saw him, it was fine, as long as he looked the same as always, remaining unchanged. He had been a special person in her life, and she wanted him single but she didn't want _him_. 

She didn't know what she wanted. 

Suddenly she realized that she was bracing herself against the wall, one hand against it to steady herself. Her chest was heaving, and little dots were dancing in front of her eyes. She felt a strange tingling sensation begin at her toes and reach her head, and then her legs faltered and gave way. 

Luke and Julie could hear _that_. 

They panicked. They tried yelling her name, pouring water over her, pinching her, shaking her. But she didn't wake up. As they were rushing her to the hospital, and while Luke was driving and Julie was frantically trying to button her blouse, they knew that things would never be the same again, that they had passed the point of no return. It didn't matter anymore if anyone found out, because all that mattered was Marissa. And right now, she was still unconscious. Luke screeched to a stop in front of the emergency ward, and carried her, while Julie clung to the two. They made an odd sight. 

Julie was getting hysterical, so Luke had to drag her outside while the doctors woke Marissa up and the social worker was called. The doctors said that she suffered some great shock. She was also anorexic again, which would explain her collapse. Julie was despondent. It was all her fault. She was the adult, she should've known better, she should've seen the signs that had been drilled into her head… And now she had to call Jimmy.

She had messed up again. She was too young and ill-prepared for this, motherhood. It was all her fault.

Luke was stricken with grief. What had he done? Had he actually managed to cause more grief? It was all his fault.

When Jimmy arrived, then Summer, and surprisingly Ryan and Seth, the jig was up. Everybody knew. They all gave Julie cold looks, and she tried to stammer out that she didn't know that it would turn out to be this way, and that her daughter would find them like that… She had been so lonely, and felt so unloved, and here came Luke spouting compliments and offering his warm self as comfort. 

They all waited at the hospital for several hours, until Marissa woke up and asked for Jimmy. When he came back, his face drained of colour, he wordlessly motioned for Ryan and Summer to go see her.

Nobody cared to notice that the two were holding hands.

After exchanging a few words with Summer, Marissa asked her politely if she wouldn't mind leaving her and Ryan alone. She mutely agreed, and reluctantly went back to join the others.

"Ryan," Marissa chirped.

"Are you okay?" he genuinely asked.

"Yeah, I… I just forgot to eat dinner for a few days, that's all. It's not a big deal, I'll be out of here in no time."

Ryan avoided her eyes. She was still deluding herself, and he wondered how long she had been like this. 

"I just want to tell you something. Directly. I mean, all this time, I didn't know what I wanted, but I've realized that… well, all I want is you with me and us together. Is that so bad?"

Ryan saw her fragile frame hidden among a mess of blankets and pillows, and marvelled at how she could be thinking of him at a time like this. A few months ago, he would have felt different about the situation. He would have believed that all of the doctors in the world were quacks and that Marissa was fine. But the way she had been acting… it wasn't right. 

"Look, Marissa. I just don't know if that's such a good idea," he hesitatingly began. He didn't want to hurt her, yet the idea of a comforting white half-truth just didn't seem to be appropriate. Especially after the situation with Luke and Julie, he was beginning to realize that the cold hard truth was better than any elaborate lie. He was growing sick of this. Sick of how things were done in Newport.

"What do you mean? Is it because I'm… _here_? But I can change, Ryan. I can. See, my hair looks better now, doesn't it?"

"Ye-ah. But… I'm sorry, I have to be truthful here. We just can't be _together_ together anymore."

Marissa's face fell. "It's someone else, isn't it?" she accused. Ryan regarded her nervously and was starting to reply when she cut him off. "I don't care. I can wait. Just break up with her and we can be together again, like old times." 

He stood close to her and took her hand gently. "I'm sorry, Marissa." Apologizing again, always apologizing.

He could see that she was fighting back tears, and let go. Walking slowly to the door, he turned back and said, "I'll get Jimmy."

Marissa wailed, "But what will I do without you? I can't live without you. I'll die without you."

Ryan could feel the familiar twinge of guilt in his heart. "I'm sorry, Marissa," he repeated. "But you'll get over this."

"I _swear_ I –"

"Sorry," he muttered again. "But your life isn't my responsibility. It's _yours_. You need to be independent, and strong, Marissa. You need to stop relying on other people for your happiness." And then he left, leaving Marissa alone in her room. This time he wouldn't rescue her. This time he'll leave it to Jimmy. 

He knew that it was the right thing to do. Sometimes he didn't have to save everyone who came his way. 

He wasn't Superman, you know.


	19. Nineteen

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: shakes head Crazy Marissa. Hopefully, she's being portrayed as not having a big flashing sign over her head reading "Hate Me". Like, there's a reason for all of the Marissa-centric chapters (as much as it pained me to write them). My personal bias aside, what I'm trying to say here is that she isn't a spiteful, hateful bitch. She's just got bad mental problems, which makes her sees things in a different (crazy!) light than others. This _is_ how everyone is reading these chapters, right? Right? crickets chirping Right. Uh… onwards.    

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Coop doesn't want to see you anymore. So just _stay away_!" With that said, Summer slammed the door in Luke's face. She was surprised at how naturally the action came to her, and then she realized, oh yeah. Luke had _always_ been an asshole to Marissa. 

Marissa was curled up in her couch with a blanket tossed haphazardly over her. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was unmistakeably crying. Again. Summer sighed, plopping down on the couch to lay a reassuring hand on her back. She didn't really know what Marissa had to be sad about; wasn't she over Luke already? And if she was disappointed in him and her mom, well, she obviously set too high standards for them to live up to. Because, I mean, Mrs. Cooper? 

Even though she was a mother in name, she sure as hell didn't act like Mrs. Cohen. 

Summer didn't understand why Marissa had to get so emotionally invested in people; it was a little bizarre how much trust she put in others. And she really could not comprehend why Marissa would skip meals without telling her best friend. It seemed that everything that could go wrong, did, and the end result was that Jimmy had to watch her eating habits like a hawk, and her psychiatric visits were increased to three times a week. Summer understood that Marissa needed a person to help her get through the bad times, but why didn't she turn to her?

It was hard for her not to sound a bit selfish like this, but Summer had always been insecure in her friendship with Marissa. While she was awkward and unbalanced, loose and unpredictable, her best friend was tall and lithe, graceful and poised. She had always felt a bit inferior compared to Marissa, and more like the sidekick instead of the other half. Then again, she had to be grateful towards the girl for defending her when some jealous girls labelled her a slut, or a whore. That sort of humiliating experience never happened again after Marissa put her foot down.  

And right now it was Marissa who needed Summer, and she tried to make the best of the situation. Comforting Coop while muttering insults at Ward was her strategy at the moment. However, while Luke could be ignored and tossed to the side like the useless bastard he was, Julie Cooper was still, and will always be, Marissa's mother. Summer didn't really know what she thought of her, but due to recent experience, she had the feeling that Marissa should at least remain in touch with Julie.

"You okay?" she asked as Marissa's sobs subsided.

"Yeah, I… just need a moment to breathe." 

"That's like, totally okay," Summer reassured. "Take your time. You know what, you stay here. I'll get the ice cream and let's just see what's on the movie channel, 'kay?"

When the two were settled nicely in the confines of the couch, spoons stuck in the giant tub of Ben and Jerry's Summer had dug out of the freezer and eyes glued to _A Beautiful Mind_, she decided to break the news to Marissa.

Summer had to ease into it first; she didn't want her to get more upset than she already was. She felt hesitant, but thankfully Marissa broke the ice first. 

"You know, Sum, I'm happy that you're here, but you don't have to do this. If you have something better to do…"

"It's no big deal." She gestured offhandedly. "And besides, we're going to need as much 'girl time' as possible… I'm going to New York City for Christmas break." She braced herself for a reaction.

Marissa noticed the lack of explanation, but she was still too emotionally preoccupied with another issue to pursue the matter further. "Oh," she briefly replied. "I can't believe you're going. I mean, I'll be all alone here, and… I'll have to face everyone myself. Luke. Mom. Ryan – did I tell you about him yet?"

Summer discreetly avoided the question. "You'll be fine, I'm sure. Like, the Coop I know can totally make it on her own."

The other girl nodded. "Sure, but, what am I going to say to them? Especially mom. I still have to get all my stuff from my old house."

"Well, actually…" Summer hesitated. "I think you should forgive your mom. Or at least see her from time to time."

Marissa looked at her in surprise. "_What_? Did you mean…?"

"I just… I mean… She's your _mother_, Coop. She always will be," she protested. 

Her friend tensed in the spot next to her, and softly repeated, "I can't believe this. I can't believe you're saying this."

"And maybe she's not so bad. I think you should really, like, reconsider the whole 'never seeing her again for the rest of your life'," Summer continued, wondering why the hell she just said that. 

Marissa's mouth was agape for a second or two before she shot back, "Are you siding with her?"

Summer was taken aback. "N-no, I was just saying –" 

The other girl advanced, grabbing her arm roughly. "Did she put you up to this? Have you been talking to her?"

Summer tried wrenching her arm away, but to no avail. Panicked, she tried to object, but was interrupted by Marissa's cry of "_How could you do this to me_?" 

She was getting hysterical now, and Summer had to admit that she had never seen this side of her before. It was downright creepy. "Coop, I –"

"Get out!" Marissa screeched. She tightened her death-grip on Summer's forearm, yanking her up and spilling the bowl of popcorn in her lap to the ground. "I don't need to hear this right now! I need to be _independent_!" She dragged Summer to the door, wrenched it open, and threw her and her jacket outside. 

"Coop, wha…?" 

Marissa leaned in close and coldly whispered, "Maybe you should think about whose side you're _really_ on." Then she slammed the door in Summer's face.

The brunette could only stand there, stunned. She hadn't even had enough time to react, and her years of experience with catfighting and rage blackouts were briefly forgotten for the moment. Never in a million years could she have predicted that. And Marissa was so _strong_… She gingerly rubbed her arm, which was most likely bruised. Okay.

Maybe some time apart would do their friendship some good.


	20. Twenty

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: I'm in a nice holiday-ish mood, but since Easter _really_ didn't fit into my timeline, the next best thing was Chrismukkah! And okay. Somehow I wrote a lot again. Ah crap. I'm becoming long-winded now! Btw, I realize it's weird how it's suddenly December. So Ryan/Summer hooked up on the first day of school, like mid-September, which means that they've been going for about two months and a bit already (so Summer's mom died in mid-December), which would also explain how couple-like they are without even trying. Okay? Onwards… (Also, anyone notice something different? Hmm? I finally gave up trying to oppose my spellchecker, the dictionary, and common sense, and have decided to spell 'poolhouse' as 'pool house' now. So I went through all my chapters, finally bolded all of the chapter titles – which was irking me too – and you have a revamped story! Yay!)

**Chapter Twenty**

Everybody who knew him wouldn't call him a ladies' man, a man's man, or a man about town. It would be hard to picture him as a carpenter, a firefighter, or a lumberjack. In short, Seth Cohen didn't exactly exude an air of masculinity.

He was working on that.

But right now, Seth couldn't help but squeal girlishly at the sight before him: the tree was decorated, the stockings hung, the menorah lit, and the presents present. It. Was. _Finally_. Chrismukkah! And he'd be damned if this moment was wasted on yet another attempt at Calm, Collected Manly Seth. Around him was Kirsten bustling around to make the house full of decorated holiday spirit, stopping occasionally to slap Sandy's hand from picking at dinner. His 'brother' Ryan had shut himself in the pool house, and Seth was sure (_really_ sure!) it was giftwrap that he had seen spread on the floor. 

Tonight the Cohen family had decided on a nice evening together without the pressures of a big holiday party, and now and then visitors showed up to drop off gifts and/or pinch his cheeks and marvel at how much he'd grown. When the doorbell rang, Seth bounded over with a big grin on his face. Yes! More presents! It was truly the magic of Chrismukkah, that he should be so blessed. He flung the door open widely, unable to control his excitement. 

And then he realized that the person standing in front of him was Summer.

"Uh, hi." His attempt at any further conversation faltered.

"Hey, Cohen," she brightly replied, and handed him something. "Came here to give you a present." 

He turned the package over, admiring the conscientious way she had wrapped half of the box in Star of David and half in Santa Clause paper. "For me? A present?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Well, duh. It _is_ Chrismukkah." 

Seth felt uplifted. This felt so normal, just like they had been together before, her frankness and subtle mockery. Except that they weren't together anymore. And they hadn't talked to each other for weeks. And although Seth was so preoccupied with the holidays… It was then that Seth noticed that Summer was fidgeting nervously. "Um… come in."

"Thanks!" Summer stepped around him and into the house, still a bit unsure of how to interact with him. "I should say 'hi' to your parents and Ryan, so…"

"Oh, okay! Uh… I'll get your present from upstairs." When he saw her start towards the kitchen, he sprinted up the stairs. Jesus/Moses, it was a good thing he _had_ a present for her. A more awkward moment was averted (which proved just how awesome the Higher Powers were!) He had been shopping only for the family when he had spotted something that just screamed 'Summer' and bought it out of impulse. After he had wrapped it with the other presents, he had promptly buried it under the mess of clothes and other stuff accumulating in a large pile in the middle of his room, and now he had to dig it out again. He hadn't expected her to show up like that. And he hadn't expected to even have something for her available. He was probably just too swept up in the spirit of Chrismukkah. Yeah. That was it.

As Summer passed through the kitchen to get to the pool house, she uneasily greeted the Cohen parents. Ryan had told her about their reaction, and she wasn't sure how to face them either. They probably thought that she was the type to just latch on to any guy that she met or something, with the way she had acted. 

Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. They paused momentarily to greet her warmly and inquire about her family before Kirsten interrupted with, "Sandy! Get your hands off the biscuits!"

As they busied themselves with familial squabbling, Ryan entered the kitchen and spotted Summer. Motioning for her to follow him, they slipped outside and into the pool house, finally at ease with their surroundings. Summer let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding.

"Stressed?" he commented.

"Yeah, it's just… they looked so comfortable with me, and everyone was just so _friendly_. It was weird."

"What'd you expect, the Spanish Inquisition?" 

"No-o, but… I'm not really used to it, I guess."

Ryan gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I know. I'm still trying to get used to it, fighting when you don't actually mean it, and all that hugging and kissing. Gah."

They both sat down on the edge of his bed. 

"You don't seem to have a problem hugging and kissing _me_, Chino," she huffed. 

He rolled his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. You're comparing yourself to Kirsten and Sandy. That's just… that's so wrong."

She took his arm and draped it over his shoulder. "_You're_ the one that's wrong. I'm always right. Deal with it, or else this relationship is, like, totally over."

As much as Ryan enjoyed being teased by Summer, it was time to get down to business. "Summer."

"Hm?" She shifted her head so it was resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"Why are you here? I mean, I could've gone over to your house later and then you wouldn't have had to go through all of that stress." 

The mood abruptly shifted. She buried her face into his sweater. "Because. Um. I couldn't wait?"

"_Summer_." And then he gave her a 'look', even though she wasn't exactly looking at him.

"Okay! Okay." Her words were muffled, and it didn't help that she was now mumbling. "Iwaslonely."

"What?"

"I was feeling lonely, and my parents weren't home and the heater was broken, so… yeah."   
  


Ryan suspected that she was lying. The heater was fine. But it wasn't the time to call her on her bluff. It would have been the time five minutes ago, when they were still bantering, but now the atmosphere was different. Tentative. Vulnerable. Pretty much what they felt every time they were together. 

"And Marissa?" he ventured hesitatingly.

"She's in L.A. Her and her dad are off trying to find some psychiatrist friend of his. He's just really worried about her, I don't know." Summer shrugged. She had decided against telling him that her best friend had stopped speaking to her after the Crazy Marissa incident. "And – oh, hey! I forgot to give you your present."

Ryan grinned cheekily. "You mean, _you're_ not my present?"

She didn't know whether to scoff at or slap him for his cheesy attempt at a pickup line. "No, jackass! Here." She handed him a wrapped rectangular-shaped item, daring him to crack another joke about how _she_ wasn't wrapped or something. He didn't.

When he opened it, he ran his hands over the cover of the leather-bound notebook. "It's nice. I like it," he commented.

Summer sighed. "You know, there are times when you need to be not-Chino and say more than ten words. This is one of those times." She was beginning to feel a little insecure. Maybe she should've bought him that really nice leather wrist cuff, you know, to go with his two old ones. Or she should've bought that cologne set, why didn't she get _that_ for him? Why the hell did her dad have to cut back her allowance?  "Look, I just saw that you really liked to write non-school-related stuff in all of your notebooks, and I figure that you needed one to get all your thoughts and stuff down. And like, I know you like your English class a lot so – you need to stop me when I'm rambling."

"No, I really like it. I can write… stuff… in it. Thanks," he reassured. Only Ryan could sound this genuine using eleven words.

"Okay," she said meekly. "So where's my present?" she asked, visibly brightening up.

"Give it to you later."

"_How_ later?"

"After…" He leaned in closer, and Summer understood what he meant. Oh. _Later_. 

Then Seth strode in. "Hey, Summer, heard you were in here, and –" 

The two broke apart. Summer stood up quickly and glanced from Seth to Ryan. "So, Ryan, hope you like your present. Uh, you're right, your sweater really is coming apart at the seams. Had to look really close to spot that."

Ryan caught the hint. "Yeah, yeah, thanks for checking. Hey, Seth, man, what's up?"

Seth looked suspiciously at the two. "Nothing, just giving Summer her present." He handed it to her before hearing Kirsten call him. "Ah. Mother has summoned me. See you two later."

He exited the pool house as hastily as he had entered, leaving Summer and Ryan standing there awkwardly.

"Shit."


	21. Twenty One

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: This is more like Chapter Twenty, part two. I couldn't very well fit Chrismukkah into two chapters; it _is_ two holidays in one, after all! But anyhoo, sorry to you hopefuls, but Ryan is not going with Summer to New York City. It would look too suspicious if they both went there, don't ya think? And plus, angst! Remember that? It'll inevitably grace you with its presence soon, kind of like a hangover from a Chrismukkah party or sore feet from Boxing Day. And, geez. Twenty-one chapters now. I really do not have any idea when this fic will be finished, so, curse the hotness of Ryan and Summer for making me write so much! This chapter might sound a bit rushed even, because I had so many events to cover but I didn't want to have to spend so many chapters on like, two days. Ah well. Onwards. (Btw, OCqt04: sorry, but there was no way I can update twice before Wednesday because I have exams going on.)

**Chapter Twenty-One**

He just stared at her, silent and expressionless. Cold, like he had always been ever since she could remember.

"Didn't you hear me, Dad?" she questioned.

"Yes, I heard you." He had might as well been discussing the latest weather forecast.

"She's _dead_. As in, like, six feet under. Well, she will be, the day after tomorrow," Summer remarked bitterly. She wanted, _needed_, those words to sting him. Really, any reaction at all would have been appreciated as a nice change from the usual.

"Uh huh," her father replied inattentively as he jotted some notes down on a document. "Listen, muffin, Daddy's got some work to do here. Do you need any money for New York? I know I cut down on your allowance, but I made up for it yesterday, didn't I?"

Money. It had always been about money for him, money for his daughter. The other rich daddy's girls were always given pretty little ponies and giant stuffed bears for their birthdays, but what Summer had always received was a thickly wadded envelope stuffed full of cold hard cash. He had always said that she could _buy_ her own ponies and bears, but it wouldn't have been the same. His affection became currency, doled out twice a year on holidays, measured by his moods. Summer was sick of it, but she had to play along. If she couldn't have his love, she'd take every last cent of his money. 

It was only fair.

"Yeah… I'm thinking of hitting all of those totally famous stores, so I'm going to like, need a lot. Okay, Daddy?" she answered with a syrupy tone in her voice. She wanted to believe that she was patronizing him, humouring him. But she knew that it was probably the other way around.

"Sure, muffin. You can take that credit card, the one with the dove on it. Leave the gold one, though, for your step-mom."

"Alright." She flipped expertly through his wallet, finding the right card. "Love ya," she called over her shoulder as she strolled out of his office. Of course she didn't mean it. 

She didn't wait for a reply. Summer's stomach was still doing flip-flops; although she never showed it, she had always felt nervous around her father. It would be nice to hear Ryan's voice now, just like it would always be nice to hear his voice. But especially when she felt… like _this_. 

Summer didn't want to be a clingy sort of girlfriend (oh, God, could they even be considered a couple yet?). In other words, she didn't want to just be another Marissa, running to Ryan whenever she had the slightest problem. But the way he made her feel with just his presence, just by being there with an arm slung around her shoulders… like _that_. That was different, somehow.

She scrutinized the packed suitcase in her room, making sure that she brought all the essentials. Underwear. Socks. Picture of Ryan (when did she get so soft?). They were spending her last day in Newport (Boxing Day), apparently shopping for the present that he hadn't bought her yet. "It's a matter of personal choice," he had said. And then it would be one whole week in New York City away from Newport. Away from Ryan. She tried not to think about it.

Meanwhile, in the pool house, Ryan was back to his old familiar brooding habits.

Summer would be gone one whole week. Away from Newport. Away from him. He tried not to think about it.

Seth wouldn't let him anyway. Today the boy had brought out the PS2, declaring it a day of solidarity, of celebrating their lack of girlfriends. "Fight the power!" he had proclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. It was strange. After spending more than a year living with the Cohens, sometimes Ryan still had no idea what Seth was talking about.

The two were currently engrossed in a ninja game, their two players against the entire Chinese army, when Seth decided to curb some irrational thoughts he had been having. They had become doubts, then fears. It was now or never.

"So…" he began as the game finished loading, "what did Summer get you yesterday? Was it big or small? Shiny and flashy, or demure and prudish? Something you display in your room or… something you hide in your closet?"

Ryan's hands froze briefly on the controller. An enemy took a swipe at his player. "Nothing special, man. It was… It was nothing."

"You looked like you liked it though. Like you had seen the light and opened your first comic book or something. Like you were Lois Lane, and you had found out who Superman was." Seth's player acquired a power-up, and it was currently charged enough to take five enemies out at once.

"What? I was just, uh, pretending to like it. You know how Summer gets," Ryan protested, his character currently riding up to encounter one of the sub-bosses. "Fuck!"

Seth used his player's pike to charge through a clustered group of gatekeepers. He was too far away to help Ryan now. "But you guys looked comfortable. I didn't want to interrupt your kiss-me-now-Eduardo lovefest." 

Ryan let out an empty chuckle. "Funny." His player was being pummelled by the sub-boss, and there were no saving food items in sight.

Seth's tone changed from joking to serious. "Yeah. It's not."

With that, Ryan regarded him, stunned, his hands motionless. His character promptly died at the hands of the henchman. "Do you mean – Oh shit!" he remembered. "What time is it?"

His 'brother' glanced at the clock briefly. "One o' clock. Got somewhere you need to be?" His player rode up to the last boss. 

"Uh yeah. Last-minute Chrismukkah present. You don't mind, do you?" 

"No, man, take all the time you want. Anything you want," Seth replied cryptically, as his pike-wielding character initiated the final battle.

Ryan grabbed his jacket and the keys to the car, rushing out of the house. He was so tempted, but he couldn't tell Seth the truth now. He had to pretend that everything was still the same, that he wasn't dating the ex-girlfriend, and that he didn't have feelings for her. He felt that Seth deserved this, this moment of consolation, before the truth came out.

It was only fair.

Summer noticed how quiet Ryan was being at the noisy mall full of shoppers looking for bargains. Quieter than usual, at least. It was unsettling. She wondered if something had happened at the Cohen residence, (did Seth say anything about yesterday?) but decided not to press further. Whatever it was, it must be pretty important and complicated, and she couldn't deal with that now, not when she had to endure a plane trip and a week away from everyone she knew, in order to attend her mother's funeral.

Her train of thought ended when they stopped in front of a pet store.

Summer looked at the displays, then at Ryan, then back to the store. "Oh… my… God." 

"Merry Chrismukkah," he simply stated.

They toured the store, Ryan's intimidating presence looking out of place among the furry little animals. He occasionally made a joke here or there, like how she'd have to start with something small or otherwise she'd kill it, but Summer knew his mind wasn't really on her skills as an animal caretaker. 

They decided on a gerbil, which was expensive enough as it was, as Ryan only had the meagre wages he had received while working at The Crab Shack. There was the cage to buy, and the wood shavings, and the food pellets, and a wheel… It probably had more knickknacks in its room than Summer's. 

As Ryan dropped her off at her house, promising to pet-sit while she was away, the two looked longingly at each other in the car, and then realized that they'd have to part at some time. They shared a lingering good-bye kiss and reluctantly pulled away. Neither wanted to say 'good-bye' out loud. Ryan tried to keep their minds off of it, and remarked that the gerbil needed a name before she left, because he was not just going to call it 'Gerbil'. 

Summer lowered her face, scrutinizing the contents of the cage sitting between them. 

"Gerbil. I dub thee Chino."


	22. Twenty Two

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Dun dun _dun_. Seth becomes suspicious. And it only took twenty or so chapters! Whee! And sorry, no Summer here, but there is Seth/Ryan interaction, which is just about the hardest thing for me to write. The show does it so well with the witty banter, so it's hard to recreate here. With that said, _please_ review and tell me if they seem too OOC or not, and I'll try my best to improve with any suggestions you might have. Also, is it plausible that Summer's mom's funeral is so close to Christmas? Because I know usually they want to bury the body as soon as possible, but like, isn't there a holiday break or something? Ah well. In my universe, that can happen. Onwards. (And yay, fluff for Chapter Twenty-One. Although the idea of the gerbil will be somewhat tainted, but oh well.)

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Chino felt apprehensive as he surveyed his surroundings. Hmm. Clean area. Lots of light. Nice and quiet. It would be his ideal space if he didn't feel so lonely right now. He hadn't realized it before, when he was younger, but after leaving everything that he ever knew behind to live in such lavish conditions, he was beginning to see why everybody started pairing up once they reached maturity. So why was he still alone, in such an unnatural state?

It was best not to dwell on it now, he supposed. He had just built this wonderful bed of cotton and wood shavings, and he couldn't wait to try it out.

Likewise, Ryan was wondering how the hell he ended up so dissatisfied with the pool house. He had liked it at first, all isolated from the main house, his little fortress of solitude. Now, he felt that there was something missing from it. Or someone. Maybe it was just the winter blues, he mused. Newport had been summer-y for about three quarters of the year, and this brief interlude of a slight chill was making him think crazy thoughts.

Crazy. Well, that was a word that took on a whole new meaning these days.

He never thought of Marissa that way, despite the rumours. She was just… inconsistent sometimes, that was all. And a bit scatterbrained, he had to admit. His Chrismukkah present from her was this platinum watch all decked out in special functions and buttons, and he didn't want to even think about how she could afford it (or how she came to 'acquire' it). He had sent it back with the warmest of apologies, the memory fresh in his mind about the last Chrismukkah that they had spent together at the mall.

He guessed that she hadn't returned from in L.A. yet, since she hadn't resumed coming to the pool house in person and her phone calls were becoming more infrequent. Just like Luke. The boy had literally vanished from the social radar for two weeks now, and Ryan had started to worry about him.

Luke may be the biggest jackass on the planet, but he was still his friend.

However. Of all the (older) women Ward could've chosen, out of all the girls at Harbour secretly pining for him, he had to go and choose Julie Cooper. The very idea sounded ludicrous to Ryan. Rule number one in the dating handbook was that you didn't date your ex-girlfriend's friends, let alone her _mom_. Then again, Ryan was dating his supposed brother's ex-girlfriend, so he couldn't pass judgment. 

He knew that he couldn't hide this secret for long. When Summer returned, and they resumed seeing each other, it seemed completely likely that Seth could walk in on them kissing or spooning or whatever. After all, wasn't Marissa just trying to find a skirt at her old house? What if Seth was looking for something he had left behind in Summer's house, what then? 

And he really didn't want to have to calm Seth down afterwards. He didn't want to think about Seth's reaction. He was already familiar with the bitter taste of betrayal, especially from the Oliver incident, and he didn't want Seth to have to go through the same thing. Wasn't Ryan man enough to face his fears and problems? Was he man enough to face his 'brother', his best friend in the whole world, the person who trusted him the most… and tell him that he not only liked Summer, but the feeling was mutual?

The answer was no. 

Ryan always knew that he was a coward. Sure, he was a man, in the sense that he had slept around a lot, had boozed himself senseless before, and had smoked/snorted/injected so much narcotics in his body, he was surprised that he was still standing. But he wasn't a _man_. That term should be reserved for people like Sandy, who took a chance on a criminal and welcomed him into his household. Ryan was still a kid, a boy who ran away from all of his problems, just like he ran away from Chino, his family, and his screwed up life. And now he was going to have to do some more running.

He and Summer had felt that they had both grown up somewhat, but… well, it was obvious, wasn't it? Her Chrismukkah present, a gerbil, supposedly giving it to her in some act of mushy affection – it was really so that she wouldn't have to feel so alone in her own house. And they both knew that their hesitation to reveal their relationship to Seth and Marissa was in part due to their own fears that everyone else, including their best friends, would abandon them. It was true that they had each other, but they were only human. 

So, no. They still had a long way to go before they could consider themselves 'grown up', despite how mature everyone else considered them to be. In reality, they had been two scared little children clinging to each other for support. Ryan didn't know whether that had changed at all in the past two months, but it would certainly be tested. 

He shook these harsh thoughts from his mind when Seth entered the pool house, all smiles. That was a good sign. Right?

"Hey, compadre! What's up? You're looking a bit down. Did you have your spinach today yet, Popeye?"

"What?" Ryan held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'm not even going to go there."

"Tsk, now, I thought I gave you a comic reading list. Please don't tell me that you used it as bedding for your new furry friend over there." Seth gestured towards the cage sitting atop the counter. "Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, uh… just petsitting. It's Summer's… she's in New York right now, remember?" Ryan answered, berating himself for not realizing sooner how suspicious that sounded.

Seth quirked an eyebrow. "So now you have a petsitting service? Feel bad for all those poor orphaned lobsters you killed with your last job at the Crab Shack?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking of joining PETA," Ryan replied dryly.

Seth placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me with your sarcasm, Ryan," he declared, feigning hurt.

The other boy rolled his eyes. "Please."

"Anyway. So I was walking through the kitchen – wait, you were mean to me. You don't get to hear this tidbit."

Ryan gave Seth a dubious look, silently counting down to the inevitable. Five. Four. Three. Two. One –

"Okay, okay, I won't let you suffer. Anyway, Dad was on the phone with Jimmy and apparently Marissa's upset about something. Something that _you_ did. My spider sense is tingling, and it's telling me that there's a story involved here." Seth wiggled his fingers, pointing them at Ryan. "See? Spider sense. Now spill."

"I just returned her present, that's all," he muttered.

"What? I'm shocked, man. Why would you return a _present_, given in the spirit of _Chrismukkah_? I thought Operation Chrismukkah was successful, and I had converted you already. Oh Jesus and Moses, please don't tell me you're an atheist now."

"It's not that. It was just too expensive. I just thought that it was… inappropriate." He shrugged. Ryan Atwood, the master of understatement.

"Big word for a big question, Ryan. I mean, I thought you and her were still… you know, close." He held up crossed fingers. "Wait, _are_ you guys still close? Did I miss the memo while I was gone?" he gasped, a bit too dramatically, and Ryan rolled his eyes again.

"Keep that up and you'll wear them out, you know."

Ryan let out a sigh of exasperation. "You missed a lot this summer. And no, I don't think we'll be getting back together."

"Is this about the Oliver thing? Because I thought he was all locked up in the looney bin by now."

"No… I've just… I've moved on."

"Really? Well, that makes one of us." Seth looked straight at Ryan, finally serious for once. "I mean, I think…" he began hesitatingly. "I think I may want to try asking Summer for a re-do."

"A what?" Ryan panicked. Oh please, don't let it be what he thought it was.

"A re-do. Like, try the whole relationship thing again." 

Ryan chose his words carefully. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, man…"

"What? Why not?"

That was a very good question. A very good question indeed. He glanced over at the cage on the countertop. He noted Chino's state of calmness and seclusion, how it was so different from the inner turmoil and indecisions Ryan was facing right now.

Damn. He was pretty fucked up if he was jealous of a gerbil.


	23. Twenty Three

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Okay, so I feel that we are _long_ overdue for a thank-you-reviewers section, so here it is (I'll try to thank everyone from like the last three chapters or so, plus there'll be specific comments for everyone! See how nice I can be if people review? wink wink nudge nudge)…

OC SoccrGrl – They _are_ hard to keep up with, so yeah. Thanks! I'm kind of cringing at all of the Seth stuff I'll need to write in the near future, though. Oy.

Candy.07 – Hehe, I know. The prospect of trouble has me rubbing my hands together with glee (yeah, um, _of course_ I don't enjoy torturing the characters). But the telling of Seth? Does not happen in this chapter, sorry! Broody McBrood needed to get his act together first.

BlueStarGirl – I know, Chino totally needs a girlfriend gerbil. It could be like a microcosm of the pool house, I mean all Ryan/Summer need to do is buy another gerbil, and then they can have little Chino gerbil babies. And as per your earlier comment, yes, fluff = good. I wish I could write an entirely fluffy fic…

rckrbaby04 – I try, I try. 

benzbabidoll – Really, it wasn't OOC at all? Awww, thanks. And, I tried not to make Seth catch R/S just making out, because that's been done by Marissa and L/J.

bens-baby – From what I have _heard_ of the last ep (I had to record it, and I haven't seen it yet), I hate it with a passion, yet cute Seth/Summer moments are so nice. It's complicated! Bah.

Lulu34 – Your favourite writer? Thanks a bunch! That's so nice, especially coming from you (which reminds me: please update _Obvious Consequences_ soon – and btw, people, you need to check her fic out here at fanfiction.net! It's _good_ – and I mean good in an absolutely fantastic and spectacular way!)

rachem-chul – Okay, I am totally hugging you and everyone else who says such nice things. 'Love' is such a strong emotion though, are you guys sure? _Really_ sure?

Katie – Thanks, I thought it was kinda cute as a name too, although I hope the word 'Chino' hasn't been too abused by me for the purposes of this story.

OCqt04 – You need not wait long for each chapter, since I update pretty regularly every two days. And during exams, too! shakes fist at sky Education, thou art the bane of my existence!

Savage Midnight – Again, love = strong word, but I'm touched you used it twice. There's been a nice growth of Ryan/Summer fics her though, so hopefully the number of people that can pull off the pairing increases.

sethlover and kate3635ca – Thanks a bunch to you two too!

If I have forgotten or misspelled someone's name, I am stupid and you are invited to pelt me with rocks and/or rotten fruit. Just not tomatoes. I hate tomatoes. (Is it a vegetable? Is it a fruit? It should just make up its damn mind already, psh.) And okay, I am really over my word limit now, so I better shut up and hand this chapter over to you guys. (Onwards.)

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

"Uh… uh…" Ryan stuttered out, his stare suddenly as blank as the gerbil's across the room.

"'Uh… uh…' You're going to need some consonants, man, or else you're speaking caveman talk. And I'm a 21st century kind of guy. Why not?" Seth repeated, his tone incredulous. He thought his 'brother' had been rooting for him. That is, unless…

Oh dear Lord. Seth Cohen, are you thinking crazy thoughts? Are you missing a card in your deck? Ryan and Summer? Hah! The two were like oil and water. Sabretooth and Wolverine. Lex Luthor and Clark Kent. Sworn enemies that just didn't mix in any coherent way. If you put the two alone in a room together, only one would make it out alive, and he wasn't really sure which one it would be. They were that unfathomable! It had to be something else. 

Please let it be something else.

"_So_?" he prompted.

Ryan hesitated. "What I meant was… um. I just… don't… want you to get hurt again, that's all." He hated this, lying like that. Covering the facts up, like what happened between him and Summer was something bad, something wrong. 

"What do you mean? I'm strong now." Seth pretended to flex his 'muscles' for emphasis.

"Yeah, but, what's guaranteeing that she won't dump you again?" Ryan argued.

Seth looked momentarily pained, and bit his lip. "She won't. I _know_ she won't. She wouldn't do that to me again. Plus, she even gave me a present yesterday and was willing to talk to me. I'd take that as a good sign."

The other boy sighed. This was not going to be easy. "I think you misinterpreted her. She was probably just trying to be nice to you, but there was nothing more to that."

Seth ran a hand through his hair. "But why would she come all the way over here? Just to give me a present? Just to see my parents and you? I…" He looked at Ryan expectantly. Why was Ryan being so against this? Why did he want to keep Seth away from Summer? There could be only one reason…

And then realization dawned on him, and he groaned. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought… what I thought. Yeah, I mean, you're looking out for me, and you think I'm going to be hurt, and you're probably right. I guess I was just holding out for…" He shook his head. "Forget it. I'm just… I'm gonna go, I'll be in my room. Sorry for intruding." 

He had been stupid to even think… Nah, it was probably just him overreacting again. There were probably a lot of reasons why Summer broke up with him and wouldn't even think about getting back together. Then he had to go and make up the one motive that was totally impossible just to comfort himself, and he had to drag Ryan into this. He was such a horrible person at trust; wasn't that what the Oliver incident proved? Seth left the pool house, shutting the door quietly behind him. It was back to some Jet music and a nice comfy bed. And maybe some one-sided talking with Captain Oats. He really shouldn't bother Ryan with his insane ramblings again.

The conversation left Ryan distraught. He never wanted to make Seth feel this bad about himself, to destroy his fragile self-esteem only recently built up by his relationship with Summer. How many more talks would they have to have like this? How many more reasons could he possibly think of to convince Seth to give her up? Overwhelmed with his thoughts, he picked up the phone and dialled the only number he could: Summer's hotel room. He prayed she was there, because he didn't know how much longer he could last here alone.

She picked up after what seemed like forever, when it was really only four rings. "Hello?" She sounded terrible, her voice husky enough to suggest that she had been crying.

Ryan jumped into action. "Summer, I –"

"Ryan?" she interrupted. "Oh my God, I just had the _worst_ day."

"Oh shit. Your mom's funeral was today," Ryan remembered. "I'm so sorry, I just lost track of time…"

"It's okay. I got back, like, a minute ago, anyway. I just… did you know only six people showed up, including me? And then it rained, and then when they lowering her down – oh, then I had to get her stuff from her office and, like, move it into her apartment." Ryan could only patiently listen as she continued talking, unable to control herself. "And, oh God, her apartment. She still had pictures of me when I was little, on her bedside table. And I found all these letters that I had sent her when I was like, six. That means that… _she was still thinking about me_, Ryan. And I had thought about her, and, why was it so hard for us to tell each other that?" Her voice was hoarse by now, and she bit back a sob. "Why was it so hard for us to tell the truth?" she whispered sadly.

"I don't know, Summer. I mean, the truth hurts, right?" Ryan tried to sound comforting, but it just wasn't in his nature. He didn't want to overburden her with issues, but he felt that she _really_ needed to know about Seth and deserved a fair warning before she returned from New York. 

"Yeah," she admitted.

"So I guess this means that… we have to be honest from now on," he said, gradually shifting the conversation.

"What… what do you mean?" Summer questioned, suddenly aware that they weren't really talking about her mom anymore.

"I mean, don't you want to avoid this kind of pain? Isn't it better to just… stop pretending?" he asked.

"I get the feeling you're changing the topic now, Ryan," she admonished. Her _mom_ had just been buried, and all he could do was preach about honesty.

"I guess I am. Look, I talked to Seth today," he said bluntly, finally getting straight to the point. That was what their entire relationship was based on, wasn't it?

"Seth? You mean, he's…" Panicked, Summer tried to grasp the notion of someone else knowing about her and Ryan. She felt sick at the idea that it would break up the two 'brothers', and all of her friendships. They'd had Luke's situation come between Marissa and the others, and a Ryan/Summer pairing would completely wreck the friendship dynamic. 

"No, he hasn't found out yet. But he will, sooner or later," he warned, almost ominously.  

"I thought he got over me already." Summer was puzzled. Did this mean that…?

"I did too, but apparently… I guess he really did love you or something," Ryan confessed, confirming her suspicions. Without an audible reply from Summer, he continued, "So I want to tell him. About us. I think it's only fair."

"What are we going to say, though?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"No… I mean, what _are_ we, Ryan? Are we a couple? Are we even dating? What does it matter if Cohen still loves me or not?" Summer replied, getting angrier by the minute. 

Ryan was stunned. He never really considered the answers to these questions, instead dwelling on their relationship in terms of others. How would Sandy and Kirsten take it? Seth? Marissa? It never struck him that their relationship needed developing. During the summer, at least, they had gotten to know each other physically, and now they were working on getting to know each other, period. He couldn't figure out where the idea of being a couple and dating came in. I guess you could say all of those one-night stands in Chino really screwed him up. "I really don't know."

Summer fell briefly silent at this remark. "Well, what about you? What do you feel for me?"

He reflected on his earlier thoughts and answered, "I don't know what we are anymore. I don't know if we're even ready or mature enough to be together right now. _I just don't know right now_." 

"I see," she whispered. "So these two months… they were just, like, any other day to you? Just a way to pass the time?" 

"That's not what I mean, Summer. Don't overreact." 

Summer could hear a hint of pleading in his voice now, but she wasn't the one who had brought it up. She knew that she shouldn't expect so much of Ryan, expect that he would say the words that she wanted to hear, because then he would be Seth, and she had already decided she didn't want Seth. And if she wanted to _keep_ Ryan, sometimes there were things she had to do that she didn't want to. Like making their secret relationship not so secret anymore. "Okay," she said, resigned. "Let's tell Cohen. We'll tell him about 'us', whatever that is, and we'll figure it out when I get home."

Ryan felt relieved, like a great weight had been lifted off his chest and he could finally breathe. "Thank you," he replied, genuinely grateful.

"Uh huh, this conversation isn't over yet, Chino. How are you going to repay me? You know, I like, totally compromised here for you," she huffed.

He took it all back. He was really glad he wasn't a gerbil. "Well, there are lots of ways…" he continued, and Summer felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

Damn Ryan. He was sex on a stick.


	24. Twenty Four

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: _So_ incredibly sorry for the abundance of dialogue in the last chapter, between Seth/Ryan and Ryan/Summer. I know how annoying when it's just talking and no action, but the latter two were on the phone, so I couldn't really do anything about that. It's a good thing Summer returns in this chapter. (Oh, you didn't know? Well, now you do. grins) Plus, I _tried_ writing a rage blackout, I really did, but then I had to cut most of it out. Oy. When did Summer become SummerLite? And, okay, wow, so many reviews for the last chapter. Thanks _so_ much, you've made me really happy (even though I have finals right now)! Everybody deserves a nice hug! Upwards and onwards…

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Ryan quickly scanned the airport terminal, hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain petite brunette (finally) back in Newport. His attention was focused on any sign of tanned leg or short skirt in the area, but he was having no luck. And then he saw something that he could only dream about.

"Summer," he called out a bit too loudly as he advanced towards her. "Pants? You're wearing pants. _Long_ pants."

"Shut it, Chino," she said irritably. "I spent hours in that God-awful plane, and I feel all disgusting right now."

"Pants," he continued to mutter as he looked down at her. "Pants."

"Just take me home so I can finally wash – _ew_ – recycled airplane smell out of my hair," she grumbled, as she hastily dragged him out of the airport, almost forgetting her suitcase on the way out.

In the car, all Ryan could do was continue his incoherent mumblings of "Pants. She's wearing pants," and so on. The truth was that, yes, she was well-aware that currently she was wearing pants. Long pants, not capris or shorts. Jeans, if you really want to know. Few people had seen her wearing more than a miniskirt, and maybe a dress, if they were lucky. She really couldn't help it, though; it had just been so damn _cold_ in New York.

In more ways than one.

To Summer, it used to be that the sensation of rain was a welcome, pleasant feeling, especially after a scorching day in Newport when she was sticky with sweat. That all changed when she was standing in the pouring rain alone, a borrowed umbrella failing her, staring at the dark mound of dirt piled before her. Her mother's grave. The tombstone was lacking in inscriptions, instead only detailing her name, and dates of birth and death. Nothing of the sort along the lines of "She will be loved." or "Devoted wife, loving mother." The phrase 'loving mother' felt like such an oxymoron to Summer, two words that seemed totally irreconcilable. 

She picked at her black dress and overcoat, deciding immediately that the colour looked unbecoming on her. She'd much rather wear red. Or a light blue. Give her puke-green any day. Forget _this_, she thought. It was time to leave.

Glancing at her mother's gravestone one last time, she involuntarily shivered. 

She decided right then and there that she was going to sell her mother's apartment. At first, she had contemplated keeping it, as a safe place if the shit ever really hit the fan in her life in Newport. It could be her one escape, somewhere that only Ryan could think of, and even he didn't know its exact address. But running away was stupid and childish, and Summer was sick of its consequences. Marissa running away to Tijuana. Seth running away on his little boat. Her mom running away from… God knows what. Leaving her only daughter behind. It was loathsome.

The next day, she turned the apartment and its contents over to a realtor, and began packing for her trip back home, or the only place that she had ever really known. The suitcase currently sitting in the back of Ryan's car now held some of her mother's possessions: Summer's childhood photograph and letters. She couldn't very well part with them, could she? Even if all she did was stuff them in a box the minute she returned home, and shove said box into the irretrievable depths of her walk-in closet, that was still one more gesture that the Old Summer would not have done. And she was proud of herself for it.

She returned to these thoughts as she was in the shower, back at her Newport home. Ryan was waiting in her room for her to finish getting ready, and then later they would be going to the Cohen mansion to face Seth. It had to be soon, because they had also decided to make their relationship public in school, and he deserved prior warning. The thought made her heart seize in her chest. Of course they would be together, her and Ryan, but Seth would be all alone. And he would be caught by surprise, too, plus the fact that he got overly emotional sometimes. She wasn't really sure that he could take it.

She shut off the water, wrapping herself in a large white terrycloth towel. Entering her spacious closet, she began rummaging through her clothes, having a hard time deciding on an outfit. After all, what should she wear to confess to her ex-boyfriend that she had been going out with his surrogate brother? This situation just seemed too _90210_ for her tastes, in fact, she was sure she had seen this episode once as a rerun somewhere. 

But what had the main female character been _wearing_? She tapped her foot impatiently as she mulled over the answer, finally giving up and decided to ask Ryan. Maybe he had seen that episode; after all, if he was willing to watch _The Valley_, why not _90210_? 

She found him scrutinizing Princess Sparkle, who had been tossed on the dresser. This situation seemed all too familiar. 

"Hey! Put that down!" she cried, quickly moving to face him.

"Make me." He held the toy My Little Pony high up over his head. For once, he actually relished in his height. No matter how short he was, Summer was still shorter.

"Chino," she warned, giving him a patented Summer Glare. This glare had scared the shit out of Seth once before, and other jocks who were a little too 'friendly', and she only used it for special occasions. Her cherished childhood toy being manhandled was certainly a special occasion.

However, it didn't faze Ryan a bit. "I like it when you're angry. It makes you look… sexy," he teased.

She intensified her glare. "Well, watch my sexy face when I bring my knee up and send you into a _world of pain_!"

"And plus," he whispered, ignoring her sudden burst of rage as he leaned in dangerously closer, "you're even sexier after a shower." 

Summer could've taken advantage of this moment, when he at last let his guard down, to snatch back Princess Sparkle from his grasp, or follow up on her threat. She didn't, however, and instead concentrated on his very agreeable-looking face. The two exchanged looks for about half a second before he kissed her. Hard.

Suffice to say, they had missed each other during the week. I mean, _really_ missed each other. Hands tangled in hair, they tumbled onto her bed, legs entwined. Ryan's hands (which she remembered well) roamed over her as he discarded her towel on the floor, and she began unbuttoning his shirt. Then his belt came off, then pants, then…

Then they stopped.

It always got to the same point, much like in the summer. They'd finally strip down to a single layer of clothing between them, but it wouldn't matter who was wearing it or what was being worn. In the beginning their being together had felt exciting and forbidden, a factor which had egged them on. Now, it was different, to say the least. Their feelings just got in the way, which prevented them from ever going any further. Really, Ryan had briefly mused, Sandy's sex talk had turned out to be useless.

Both couldn't understand it. Luke and Julie could do it. Many, many times, in fact, without hesitation or regret.

But for some reason, again like in the summer, whether they wanted to or not, Summer and Ryan never went all the way. And both were very (and growing increasingly) painfully aware of that fact.

"We can't, can we?" he finally voiced what they had already been thinking the last two months or so.

"Well, duh. Thank you, Captain Obvious," she retorted, frustrated.

"And we're just trying to delay the inevitable, aren't we? Telling Seth?"

"I guess. Oh God, what are we going to do?" she moaned. 

Ryan could only respond with a meaningful sigh. 

Her moaning was supposed to be _his_ job. 


	25. Twenty Five

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: I'm really sorry I had to push this back at least two chapters. _Finally_, Ryan and Summer tell Seth what the heck is going on. I tried to make this different from, well, all of the other Seth-finds-out moments, but please tell me what you think. Enjoy, and onwards! (This chapter was inspired by Jet's "Look What You've Done". Put me right in an appropriate depressing mood, it did.)

General shout-out – I am really loving the recent warm and fuzzy reviews people have been giving me. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I just hope I don't disappoint anyone in the future… It really makes writing this fic worthwhile to hear everyone's opinions, especially since, yes (as Lulu34 hinted at), it is a real bitch to update so fast. I had actually started out with about five or six chapters before I posted the story, and then I'd write a new chapter every two days if I could, but I always had backup. Now, because of exams, I've used all my extra chapters up, and it's sometimes been really hellish when inspiration has decided to abandon me. Again, thank you lots! Merci beaucoup! Gracias! Domi arigatou (Mr. Roboto)! Okay, okay, I'll try to stop dorkifying my A/N's now.__

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Summer stood up and straightened her skirt for what seemed like the billionth time, patting it down neatly before carefully returning to sit next to Ryan.

"Stop it," he admonished in a hushed tone.

"I can't help it! I'm, like, _so_ nervous," she whined, her shoulders sagging as she sighed loudly. Glancing over at his hands, she observed, "You're not doing so well yourself, you know."

Ryan looked down in response, finally realizing that he had been unconsciously fiddling with his leather wrist cuff. He sheepishly removed his right hand from it, and instead reached for Summer's hand. "Remind me why we're doing this again."

"Uh, hello, Earth to Chino! This was _your_ idea," she huffed.

"Oh. Right." 

Summer snorted in irritation. Stupid Ryan with his stupid persuasive ways, she griped. She didn't want to have to do this stupid revelation right now. She wanted everything to be peachy keen and allow everyone else to live in their own stupid bubble of happiness and ignorance. Stupid Ryan. Stupid her for going along with him. Stupid conscience. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The pool house door banged open as Seth strolled in carelessly. "Hey, man, what's up? Found your note, and okay, what's with the notes? We live in the same house and all, and you are not Oliver and I am not Marissa." Catching himself, he continued to ramble, too busy with his hand gestures and phrasing to notice what was right in front of him. "Oh, sorry, bad, _bad_ topic. Anyway, I – S-Summer?" he stuttered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah. What am I doing here?" She chuckled uneasily. "You see…" she explained as she tried to manage a cheery expression, "we – uh, me and Ryan – we have something to say. To you. Like, it's really important…" Her last statement trailed off, and she was at a loss for words.

Ryan took over, regretting that they hadn't really discussed in detail how they were going to tell Seth. "Summer and I… We…" he cleared his throat awkwardly, then finished, "Like. Each other." 

"You guys want to be friends? That's cool, I guess, I can't stop you," Seth articulated, perplexed as to why it seemed like they were asking for permission or something.

"No, that's not what I mean. Maybe you should take a seat." Ryan motioned to an empty spot in front of him. 

Seth warily sat down, watching the couple suspiciously. "You know, you guys, just shine a bright overhead light on me, and it'll be like I'm in _1984_."

Ryan shook his head sadly. "It's not politics, man." He was beginning to lose momentum. It was supposed to be his job to inform Seth of the harsh facts, and then Summer would be right there to try to comfort the boy. Kind of like the infamous 'good cop, bad cop' routine. Only this time, he wasn't so sure that he could pull off the act and tell Seth everything. He wasn't even sure that he could get past the first sentence. It would've been easier if all he had to do was deny Seth bathroom privileges, or hand him really bad coffee. Geez. Cops had it _easy_.

Summer noticed his hesitation, and decided to take on the responsibility herself. Screw the routine they had briefly worked out. It was about damn time she stopped shying away from any likelihood of emotional pain. "Cohen." She paused, waiting until Seth's attention was fully on her. She was going to have to hurt him badly again, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But, as sure as she was that her name was Summer frickin' Roberts, she'd rather revert back to being the bitch than have Ryan and Seth's relationship broken up over her. She wasn't good enough for that. Gently, she disclosed to a very confused Seth, "Ryan and I. We're dating."

Then everything got fucked up after that.

It was hard not to notice the play of numerous emotions on Seth's face. Disbelief, denial, sadness, anger… He was almost his own five-step grieving process. Almost. As Ryan and Summer became well aware, the steps were a bit out of order, and acceptance was missing. Despite her efforts, however, Seth immediately focused his sudden rage on Ryan. "So," he snarked, "didn't take long for you to _move on_ from Marissa, did you? I'm sure you were just completely _torn up_ about it."

"Seth," Ryan pleaded. "Don't be like this."

"Like what? Like a guy who just found out his 'brother' is dating his ex-girlfriend? What did you expect me to do, congratulate you?" he spat out. "When the hell did this happen?"

Ryan flinched at his caustic tone. He had stepped up to bat for other people several times. It was no problem for him, defending others in fistfights, or protecting Marissa and Summer from their inner demons. But when it came to family, _his_ family (or the lack thereof)… he found himself completely and utterly defenceless. "The beginning of the school year," he lied, hoping for the off-chance that it would lessen the blow.

It didn't.

"_After_ she broke up with me?" Seth said incredulously. "You expect me to believe that? Tell me the truth, when did you two… Never mind," he cut himself off and bitterly remarked, "I don't want to know." Then again, Seth Cohen was always a sucker for punishment. "No. Wait. I _do_ want to know. I want to know how long I've been lied to."

Summer held Ryan's hand even tighter, praying silently that he would forgive her for saying what he didn't want said. "It started this summer."

Seth recovered from a stunned silence, and it seemed like he had taken the time instead to launch into another tirade against the guilt-stricken boy next to her. "Wow. Wow! I mean, all that time…" he accused, never taking his eyes off of Ryan's. All that time I was telling you about her, about wanting her back, about my plans for us. And you were… I'm so stupid, to think that I could _trust_ you. I can't trust you," he emphasized, shaking his head. "I don't have a brother anymore."

Seeing Ryan flinch, Summer couldn't help herself. "Don't be so childish, Cohen," she snapped, immediately regretting it. 

Hurt, he replied, "Yeah, I guess I am. 'Be a man, Seth, be a man.' Isn't that what everybody tells me? So I tried, and, it still wasn't enough, was it?" Calming down, it was if he was close to some profound revelation.

Summer tried to cut in. "No, that's not –"

He ignored her, and began to speak in an eerily resigned tone. "It's like I'm Robin. And Ryan's Batman, and you're Wonder Woman. Both of you have self-titled comics, with the chance for crossovers, but I'm always stuck in the background. I'm always the last to get inked, the last for any character development. I get the repetitive and ultimately annoying catchphrase, because I'm only the comic foil."  
  


"Seth." The typically speechless Ryan reached over and placed his hand on the Cohen boy's shoulder.

Seth's face softened momentarily, until he realized where Ryan's other hand was resting: on Summer's. Then his eyes narrowed, and he muttered in a low voice, "Was it fun, Ryan? Making a fool of me?" He brushed Ryan's hand off of his shoulder and got up quickly. "I wish you both happiness and prosperity," he said resentfully, before he turned around quickly and left the pool house.

Watching Seth's retreating figure, Ryan gave a whimper of anguish, and covered his face with his hands. Summer wrapped her arms around him, but he didn't notice. There was only one thought preoccupying his mind right now, and he dwelt on it mercilessly.

What had he done?


	26. Twenty Six

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Last week's episode was so incredibly cute with the power tools, so I just had to reference it by taking one of the funniest lines in the ep (and there were so many to choose from – like the stud-finder, I think I snorted when I laughed at that one). Here's more Seth/Ryan angst, isn't that fun? And yes, Samantha, I am _so_ anticipating a Summer/Marissa showdown myself, although no word yet on when that will actually be. (Heh.) Anyway, onwards to the new chapter! (Btw, apologies for the lateness – fanfiction.net just went all kablooey when I tried to update – and also because I'm not sure I'll be able to get in a new chapter on Monday, since I have an exam on that day, nor Wednesday, since it'll be my birthday – yay, 17! But I guess we'll see.)

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

It was like he had stepped into an alternate dimension, where everything was backwards. The sky was green, the grass was blue, cows gave chocolate milk… And Seth Cohen had not spoken a word in an entire day, let alone to Ryan. That meant that it was beyond serious, that if serious was a line, the situation had surpassed any feasible expectations and serious was now a dot on the horizon. 

Now, Ryan had dealt with a lot of angry people before. Sometimes, when he got Trey pissed off about something, the two would duke it out in a brotherly fistfight that bordered on violent and dangerous. His mother liked to deliver a daily quota of pain by hurling insults at him, words that she knew would wound him deeply. 

But silence was a new one. It was the worst of the evils; it made him blow things out of proportion and believe in the most horrific of possibilities. He couldn't really understand what was going on in Seth's mind right now, and it scared him, because unlike Trey and Dawn's short bursts of rage that burned out quickly, this type of anger seemed like it would turn into something that lasted, into a grudge, and eventually hate. He had seen this happen before. 

It was how he came to hate his deadbeat dad.

Dinnertime at the Cohen household was another tense moment, for everyone involved. Sandy and Kirsten could pretty much guess at what had transpired between the two boys, but tried to pretend nothing had really happened and that everything was normal. It was just too hard to do so when Seth had seemingly regressed in age to hold the attitude of a five-year-old.

"Mother," he began, finally breaking his vow of silence over Chinese food, "please tell Ryan to pass me the sweet and sour pork." 

Kirsten almost rolled her eyes at this, half-expecting him to stick out his tongue next. "Tell him yourself, Seth," she scolded, adopting the most motherly tone she could. 

"No, I can't. If he knows that I _love_ the pork, then he'll just _steal_ the pork," Seth said pointedly, giving Ryan a hard glare.

Sandy, seemingly oblivious, naïvely commented, "I thought you loved chow mein the most."

"Sandy, now is not the time –"

"No." He cut her off. "This _is_ the time," he announced cryptically, "and I'm telling you all that _nothing should change_." He continued on a lighter tone with, "I love spring rolls, and Kirsten, you like the garlic chicken, right? I have it all memorized, so I think I should know what my son likes." He glanced at Ryan, then corrected himself. "Sons."

At this, Seth pushed his chair back, scraping the floor loudly. "I'm full."

His parents expressed obvious surprise, with Kirsten gaping at him and Sandy remarking in disbelief, "Seth Cohen, unless you got your stomach stapled overnight, there is no other reason why you only ate about half of what you usually have on Chinese Takeout Night."

Seth only responded with a scowl directed at Ryan. "I'm _full_." He deposited his dishes in the sink, then headed for his room. 

Ryan hurried after him, trying to keep his distance yet stop him at the same time. "Seth, I'm sorry, okay? Would you please talk to me?" he begged. They reached the second floor, stopping in front of Seth's bedroom door. The Cohen boy briefly faced him for a moment as he tried to explain himself. "Please believe me; I didn't purposely do this to hurt you. Summer and I, we just happened. When you were gone –" 

Ryan's cell phone rang abruptly from his front pocket, and he was tempted to let it ring. Frustrated at the noise, and at his inability to continue, he angrily answered the call. Who the fuck…?

From the way Ryan's voice immediately softened and his features relaxed, Seth quickly deduced that it was Summer calling.

"Ryan, get your ass down here. You said you were going to help me redecorate my room, and you're late," Summer yelled through the phone, unaware of who else could hear the conversation. She tried to sound indignant. Truthfully, she didn't really give a damn about what colour the walls of her room were, or that she was in dire need of a shoe rack. All she could think about or remember was the last time she had truly been happy with Ryan, and that was when he proposed the renovations. 

She wanted that moment back.

However, Seth didn't know that, and what he knew was that Summer was phoning Ryan. Because they were dating. And they had been together since the summer, when, technically, Summer and Seth had still been Summereth. He mulled over this, shot Ryan a hurt look, and then slammed the door in his face. 

Seth's pained expression, followed by the sudden shutting of the door, was an image that stayed with Ryan as he drove to Summer's house. All of that was his fault, he decided, like everything else used to be his fault. This time, however, Seth really had a valid reason to blame him, and he didn't know how to make things right again. He was preoccupied with this thought as he pulled up in the Roberts driveway, and even later when he was really supposed to be concentrating on painting. His movements were mechanical, unfocused, and he was pretty much unaware of his surroundings.

He didn't even know Chino was missing. (Summer had moved it into the living room so it could avoid breathing in fatal paint fumes.)

Ryan was good with power tools, and he and Summer took turns wielding the drill, but by the time they were done with the room, he was so out of it that heavy machinery should be out of the question. His mind was on something else. 

And she noticed. She asked him what was wrong, knowing what he would say. Duh. It was exactly what had been preying on _her_ mind ever since yesterday. But it would be nice to hear the words coming out of Ryan's mouth, reassuring her that he was still her boyfriend enough to tell her the truth, and that she wasn't alone in her thoughts.

"It's just that…" he replied, frustrated. "I think I regret telling him. Maybe we should've waited."

"Oh, no, Chino, you did not just say that. _I_ don't regret anything at all. Did you want to, like, keep our relationship a secret forever?"

"No, but…" Then he remembered Seth's hurt expression, and the familiar sound of a door slamming. Summer was standing right in front of him, and he avoided her eyes. "I don't know," he countered, stone-faced.

"Do you blame me?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," he repeated in a vague reply.

"If you blame me," Summer asserted, getting upset, "you're more of a jackass than I ever thought you could be." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. 

Foot, meet mouth, she mused. 

"Oh God, sorry." She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts, then realized that: "Ew! These nasty paint fumes are disgusting! Let's go downstairs and, like, get out of here… come on, I think my dad hid some tequila in the cabinet. Let's get totally wasted," she suggested. 

Ryan thought about alcohol, then about its effects on people. Dawn (and, briefly, Marissa) used it to forget about their everyday problems and indecisions. They could get totally drunk, wreak havoc in other people's lives, and then wake up the next day unaware of what they had done, with only a bad hangover. He didn't want to be like them, self-centred and cowardly. Furthermore, he didn't want his relationship with Summer to be just another alcohol binge. Sure, what they were doing could be considered completely selfish, and it very well could ruin existing friendships and sibling bonds. But he didn't want it to end, didn't want to wake up one morning with only a couple of good memories that had already begun to fade like any good dream.

"No, I'm just gonna go," he said, turning to leave before he was tempted. He was addicted, really. To alcohol or to Summer, though, he couldn't decide.

Summer grabbed his arm, expecting the worst. He was running away from her again, perhaps even from people in general. "Don't do this, Ryan, don't push me away; it's not going to work."

"That's not what I'm doing," he assured. If only Summer knew…

"Then why don't you stay?" she urged, her eyes pleading.

Ryan relented, and she slowly let go, not until she was sure that he wasn't going to bolt. They tentatively left for downstairs to check on Chino, but not before Summer had a last look around her room, admiring their handiwork. She nodded in approval.

"_Oh yeah_. Bob Vila's your bitch, Chino." 


	27. Twenty Seven

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday… I had a good one! So because I'm feeling happy, I'd like to spread the love and update to make other people happy, too. Yay! Okay, so Seth is not evil! Just like Marissa is not evil – although she is hateable. See how that works? Again, I think I took some liberties in describing Seth, so if there are any episode revelations that contradict what I write, please bring attention to that or just chalk it up to artistic license, I guess. In most of this chapter, btw, Little Seth Cohen is supposed to be like seven years old, I think. Oh well. Just read the chapter then, and you'll see what I mean. Onwards! 

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"I'm sorry I cheated on you."

His listener looked on intently. Those chocolate-brown eyes seemed so forgiving, just like they had always been. No matter how much he had screwed up, or was screwed by other people, he knew that there was always someone he could turn to for consolation. 

"I'm sorry; I'll never do it again. I don't know what I was thinking, and I guess it was just yet another moment of weakness. I've been having those a lot lately, you know."

Pause.

"I bet someone's been sneaking kryptonite into my room." 

Seth continued his one-sided conversation with Captain Oats as he lay in his bed and held it carefully in his hands. The horse had been his best friend since he was little, and what did he do? Ignore it, abuse it, discard it whenever it was convenient. Their long-standing friendship was treated as dirt, and he had cruelly gone behind the horse's back and abandoned it at the first sign of another potential friend – a _human_ friend, when said human friend showed up at the house with a criminal record and a sorry looking wrist cuff. Ryan. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. 

It was because of Ryan that Seth had realized that normal friends did not have four legs and a company logo stamped on their plastic butts. Friends were not horses. Or horses were not friends. Whatever. Your friends were supposed to stick up for you, and be eternally loyal. And for Ryan, Seth guessed, one out of two wasn't bad. 

Then again, he didn't have much to compare him to.

As an only child, Little Seth Cohen had to find lots of things to amuse himself with. New toys came at no expense, and their numbers grew until they were limitless, having to be packed away in large plastic bins for storage because there just wasn't enough room for them. They came and went. It was boring.

Then one day, amidst the weekly arrival of new playthings, in a large pile of brightly coloured Tonka trucks and action figures that he already owned two sets of, Seth spotted something. It was a horse. Just a plain ol' brown horse whose appendages didn't move, unlike the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figurine sprawled right next to it. The horse stood out by blending in to the carpet, if that made sense.

It didn't matter. To Seth, it made sense, and something about that horse (whom he later christened 'Captain Oats') drew him to it. He didn't realize it until later, much later, when he was finally old enough to understand what the word 'outcast' meant, and the words 'exile' and 'gossip'. He knew. He had gone to the trouble to look the words up in the dictionary when his parents started using fancy words so that Seth couldn't understand what they were saying.

It was fine that people thought of him that way, he had thought. He didn't really need friends right now. His current mission was to procure a sibling.

Siblings lived and breathed, unlike his many toys; they were unpredictable and came in different shapes and sizes. They could never be boring, and with them, you held an unbreakable bond. A kid might say that he hated his older brother, but he never really meant it. He could go home and the next day, it turned out that all was forgiven because his older brother had come home with a new video game. Out of anything in the world, Seth wanted this.

Preferably a brother. But a sister would still be okay. Older, or younger, it didn't matter, although he sensed that if he had an older sibling, he would've seen him or her by now. So a younger baby one, that sounded alright. Of course, he had heard that the baby ones were the worst, that they cried all day, and the only things they could do were eat, poop, and sleep. But someday, they would grow up, and then Seth would have a little toy of neverending fascination, and he wouldn't feel so alone anymore.

During one of his stints as a precocious child, he brought this matter up with his parents. 

Naturally, they both giggled, a bit embarrassed and scandalized. Sandy sat Seth down on the chair next to him and explained the story about the stork bringing the babies or whatever. 

"And," Sandy clarified, "I'm sorry, but the storks are closed for business."

The topic was never really discussed again in the Cohen household.

Then Ryan showed up. And lo, Seth found that a person – a real, live person, not a plastic, expressionless horse – wanted to be his friend and potential brother. It was weird. It was thrilling. It was like Jesus and Moses had answered his prayers and now he had his very own brother, complete with a brooding look and a leather jacket (batteries not included). No matter how horrible the people at school were being, Seth knew that he would have a brother and a best friend right there to support him.

There was only one thing he forgot about brothers and friends, and people in general: they were unpredictable.

It was this thought, coupled with his indecision between accepting Ryan's relationship and beating the shit out of him (not that Seth could, but…), that he had spent the last few days mulling over.

Then the doorbell rang. And rang. It continued to ring until Seth remembered that it was Rosa's day off today, and he could not afford to be lazy.

"Hey, Seth. Is Ryan here?" she chirpily asked, a bit too cheerful for his taste.

Marissa. Of course. He suspected that Ryan and Summer hadn't told her, hell, they probably didn't even know she was back from L.A. She looked 'okay' (read: saner). Maybe Jimmy had gotten lucky and found a decent doctor for her, or maybe she didn't have much of a problem in the first place. Did it matter?

"Hi, Marissa. Ryan's not home right now, sorry." He shrugged helplessly.

"No, that's okay. Do you know where he is, I really need to speak with him, so…" She trailed off, slightly disappointed.

It was then that realization dawned in his mind. No, duh, Ryan wasn't here. He was at Summer's. They were probably watching _The Valley_, or holding hands, or kissing, or doing whatever couples did when they were alone. Seth didn't want to think about that right now. He looked at Marissa for a second, wondering how she could be so damn happy when her ex-boyfriend was currently doing God-knows-what with her best friend. It was unnatural. She shouldn't be so happy, because it was wrong, and because he was in a similar situation and was feeling at his shittiest, dark feelings twisting his insides around. Marissa was waiting for a response now, her face illustrating the obliviousness he envied. He couldn't take it anymore, all of it.

He felt the urge to destroy something beautiful.

When he told her where Ryan was, where he _really_ was, he could see her just fall to pieces. He had known that after Tijuana, and recently after Luke and Julie, that she couldn't take it. But he told her anyway, and he managed to do it without registering any emotion on his face. She left in tears.

It was becoming a very weird day of revelation. At first he didn't want friends, but it turned out that he really did, and currently he wasn't so sure if Captain Oats counted. He wanted a brother, but it turned out that, well, he really didn't right now. He wanted to feel in control of the situation, one-up Ryan and Summer by getting to Marissa before they could, but in telling her he felt more out of his element than ever. 

When did he become Lex Luthor? How the hell did he get to be the bad guy?

Out of options, he quickly dialled Ryan's cell-phone number, each ring echoing in his head. "Ryan, man?" he asked, trying not to sound panicked. 

"Seth? Is that you?" After a week of silence, Ryan almost had difficulty recognizing his voice.

"Yeah. Listen, Marissa came by today."

"Marissa, you mean…" Ryan paused, collecting his thoughts. Wait, so if Seth was calling and talking to him, did this mean that he was forgiven? "You mean, she's back? From L.A.?"

"Uh huh. It's okay, though, because I told her everything. Saved you the trouble." It was very frank how Seth spoke. Not sad, angry, or bitter. Not gleeful, joyous, or celebratory. Just a statement of the facts. He hung up the phone at Ryan's sharp intake of breath, unable to say anymore.

When you fuck things up, you should at least let people know, right?

It was only fair.


	28. Twenty Eight

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Oh my God, you guys, I just noticed that we passed the 200-review mark already. I'm just… so… speechless! I never expected to get that many reviews, well plus I never really expected to write a story with almost thirty chapters and counting. _Thank you_,_ thank you_,_ thank you_, from the bottom of my heart! Everybody gets a hug and a cookie! Plus, okay, who here is totally looking forward to the season finale tonight? I know I am! Oh yeah, and also: onwards. (Sorry for the lack of updates; I was hit by the Sasser worm that's been going around, and hopefully the problem's totally fixed now.)

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Ever since he was little, Ryan never liked phones.

They were loud and annoying; they had shrill ring tones that only dogs could hear. And if he heard the strains of _Fur Elise_ one more time, he was going to have to hurt someone (although he had hurt people with far less justification before). 

When he watched someone take a phone call, he knew that he or she would soon be leaving. Memories of his childhood were filled with the images of Trey or Dawn responding to an urgent call, then leaving the house for days or weeks, sometimes even months. Ryan dreaded the times when there were two separate periods of ringing instead of one, because then both would have to leave and he would be all alone. This meant that his mornings would be spent scrounging for food around the house, inspecting days-old leftovers to see what could be salvaged. This meant that his nights would be spent under the covers during thunderstorms, without the security of knowing that his family was near. 

Although Dawn and Trey were emotionally absent most of the time, being literally absent was something completely different. 

It worked the other way, also. Phones made people arrive at his house instead of leave. Most of them smelled weird, a combination of something sickly sweet and the sour taste of beer. They were covered with odd inky markings and piercings in places Ryan didn't even think were possible. The women liked to gush over his faux rebellious look and harmless glowering. The men liked to kid about how their Pixie Dust was much better than the candy kind that he ate. Needless to say, he didn't find their jokes at all amusing.

He possessed this same loathing for phones even after he moved to the O.C. It didn't help that now everybody was rich enough to own more than a couple of phones, and could afford to pay all of the bills on time, unlike his previous acquaintances. Hell, he had even found one in the pool house, and his last birthday present from Kirsten and Sandy was a cell phone. 

Ryan thought that he had gotten over it; he thought that he had figured it out and that he was okay with people coming and going at the beck of some idiotic ring tone. 

But he was wrong. 

He soon discovered that phones meant bad news, because if you couldn't afford the time to meet someone in person to tell them something important, then you were going to call them. That was what Seth did when he announced he was coming back from his summer boating trip. That was how Summer's mother's lawyer got a hold of her. And it was exactly how Seth chose to inform him that he had just enlightened Marissa about Ryan and Summer's real relationship.

Yes, Ryan's generation lived in the Age of Technology. It was just too bad that he would rather be Amish.

The day itself had begun acceptably. Seth was still not talking to him, but Ryan was pleased with their progress. He felt that they had reached a nice state of comfortable silence. Satisfied, he left the house for Summer's, and they enjoyed a relaxing lunch together before settling down on the couch to watch an afternoon re-run of _The Valley_. 

Well, that was the _plan_. The truth was, no one was really paying attention to the television at all. (Surprise, surprise.)

Partly because they had seen the episode already, and partly because they were trying not to look at each other. You see, neither had any self-restraint, and this trait was particularly dangerous when you had two deprived hormonal-ridden teenagers sitting incredibly close together. Ryan couldn't remember who jumped whom, but he was pretty sure it all started when he reached over Summer for the remote next to her. Coincidentally, she had been leaning forward to grab a chip from the bowl on the table in front of her, and their bodies touched. 

Summer stared at him, mouth agape. "Want a…" she began, as she offered the chip to him. "Ah fuck it." She grabbed Ryan and kissed him hard.

Of course, he responded. Very enthusiastically, in fact, and somehow their bodies ended up crushing the chip between them and the couch. A very cheesy Dorito and a custom-built beige suede sofa. 

Whatever, Ryan thought dismissively. A cleaning bill was worth it, being able to make out with his own girlfriend. They had worked off each other's shirts and he was trying to figure out the complicated ties on the front of Summer's miniskirt. Then his cell phone rang.

"Ignore it," she mumbled between kisses.

"What if it's… oh shit," he moaned as he heard his belt unbuckle with a satisfying clink. 

Summer couldn't help but grin. "You're about to get _very_ lucky, Mr. Atwood."

Ryan's moment of bliss was interrupted when he stole a glance at his cell phone, and managed to read the writing on its screen. Seth Cohen. _Seth Cohen_! His eyes grew wide, and his arm shot out for his phone. He brought it to his ear, and apologetically held Summer back with his other arm. "Seth? Is that you?" he tried not to sound too eager.

At the mention of her ex-boyfriend's name, Summer halted whatever she was trying to do with Ryan's pants and leaned back in the couch, almost pouting. Drats. Foiled again. Then she heard a gasp and saw all of the colour drain from his face. 

_Saved you the trouble_. That was all Seth could say? Those were his first words after a whole week? Ryan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Marissa was supposed to be getting better. She was supposed to be back on her feet again, after the disaster known as Luke and Julie. And now Seth had to go and do _this_… Fuck laughing and crying. He was going to have to skip a couple of emotions and go straight to punching a wall. Instead, he threw his cell phone across the room and watched as it shattered against the fireplace.

Don't kill the messenger, my ass.

He looked to his side and saw Summer staring at him with her eyes wide, startled at his sudden action. "Seth told Marissa," he bluntly stated, and clenched his jaw. 

Summer's eyes were already wide. She was already stunned at the sight of his cell phone in pieces on the floor. But the next item of information she heard was even more surprising. Her face couldn't possibly look even more shocked, so she had to compensate with words. "I'm going to _kill_ him!" She stood up and stalked towards her garage with a purpose. 

Ryan stopped her, and held her shirt out. "You might be needing this." 

"Oh yeah," she replied sheepishly, and clumsily fitted it over her head. "But I'm really going to do it. I'm gonna kick him on the ground with my _fuckin'_ heels on!" Whoever had called Ryan, it wasn't Seth. It couldn't have been shy, sweet Seth, with his head full of ideals and his heart full of love. It must have been Evil Clone Seth. 

And Evil Clone Seth was due for an ass-kicking.

Reluctantly, Ryan gave up trying to ignore his conscience. "We can't do that right now. We have to find Marissa first before she does… something… to herself."

Summer gave a shriek of exasperation and kicked her garage door in place of Evil Clone Seth's abdomen. "Fine! You're right! Are you happy now?" she screeched.

He winced at the feeling of being a verbal punching bag. "Let's just go." They decided to head to Jimmy's apartment first. (Phones were overrated, Ryan had decided.) 

When Jimmy opened the door with the hopeful query of "Marissa?" it was easy to figure out that Ryan and Summer's search wasn't over. "No," the elder Cooper had responded wearily to their insistent questions, "I haven't seen her ever since we've been back from L.A." 

"No," Julie replied similarly when the two asked her at the front door of her mansion. "Why? Is she missing again?" her tone rose as she calculated the possibilities. 

There was no choice. They had to ask Seth.

Ryan decided against bringing Summer and left her in the car, stopping short of taking her keys and locking her in it. He could tell that all of the little snarky comments she was making now and then in the car were slowly building up to a rage blackout of monumental proportions. He feared for Seth's health, you see.

As he entered the Cohen mansion, he went through a mental list of all the places Marissa could be. Well, she was certainly not with her parents right now. There were plenty of friends she could be with, but most of them had already shunned her after her suicide attempt in Tijuana. 

What about in Chino?

Like that would even be possible. Who would she stay with? At the thought of Marissa showing up at one of his childhood friend's doorstep armed with a Prada handbag and staring distastefully at the little shack, Ryan's thoughts went haywire.

Ryan Atwood, he mused. Don't be ridiculous.


	29. Twenty Nine

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Gah, the season finale was so emotional. I didn't want the show to end! Ryan's back in Chino (no!), Seth's on his boat (heh, Lulu34, I guess I _did_ predict that somewhat), Summer's consequentially getting screwed over, and Marissa's drinking again. Lord, it seemed like the show regressed. Fingers crossed for next season – anyone know if that one's starting early in the summer, too? Okay, so, here is chapter twenty-nine… Sorry for all of you hopefuls, but Marissa's stay in Chino is brief (and maybe she can just go away soon sighs). Hope you guys like it anyway! Onwards. (In tribute to the show: _California. California. Here we coooome._ sniff sniff)

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Seth nursed an ice-cold beer in his hands, turning it over and over, watching the drops of condensation as they clung precariously to the can.

He hadn't opened it yet; he was just waiting for the "right time". Yeah. That was it. It wasn't because he didn't drink beer and couldn't tolerate it, though. It was because the timing had to be perfect. He didn't want the alcohol to slide down his throat in a flavourless frigid stream, yet warm beer didn't sound too appetizing either.

At least, that's what Luke always said.

Seth didn't know when he had become a beer-drinker. He had just assumed that he had to adopt that habit now. Maybe he needed to get a buzz cut or something, get rid of those goofy curls he had. He could start wearing hoodies in the middle of an O.C. winter, and dress in all black like a ninja.

That's what bad guys did, right?

Bad guys also betrayed their so-called friends and hurt people just for the hell of it. And correct him if he was wrong, but Seth Cohen had done just that. In other words, it would be no surprise if his keys suddenly attached themselves to his neck, he lost all of his hair in a freak accident, or he went around donning green tights and a stupid little Hallowe'en mask.

Jesus/Moses. Right or not, he needed to read fewer comic books.

He pressed the beer to his forehead, relaxing against its coolness. He could stay like this forever, he thought. It felt perfect.

"Seth."

Damn.

"Snap out of it, man. I need to ask you something," the very familiar voice was saying. Ryan sounded just a bit peeved, that was obvious. Like Seth could blame him.

"I'm all ears, buddy. I was all mouth before, but now I shall make like Dumbo," he quipped, setting the beer down in front of him.

"Just tell me where Marissa is, if you know," Ryan snapped. Summer must be rubbing off on him.

"I don't. Know, I mean. She just took off, as she is so apt to do. I'm not her parole officer, are you?" Somehow, Seth managed to sound mean-spirited despite himself. He had felt the habitual beginnings of witty banter welling up inside of him, but this time it came out different, unlike the dry humour he had become used to. Ryan needed to hear the latter, and laugh. Ryan needed to laugh or smile or react in some good way, or else Seth didn't know what to do. For once in his life, he was frantically grasping at words.

"We need to know, Seth." He watched as Ryan's hands discreetly clenched into fists and his glare hardened. "It's really important."

Seth would have taken the opportunity to laugh at how Ryan was speaking as if to a two-year-old, but it seemed appropriate. And right now his palms were dangerously sweaty, and he had the odd urge to hide underneath his Spiderman bedcovers. "We?" he asked. "Speaking of, how's Summer?"

Ryan scoffed in disbelief, finally unable to hide his emotions. "_Summer_? Summer. You're asking me about Summer. Let me just – how do you _think_, Seth? You think she's totally kosher with the fact that Marissa knows? How could you do that? What the fuck were you thinking, no, wait, were you even thinking at all?"

Oh, whoops. He didn't know why he had mentioned her; it was just that she was the only person he cared to think about right now. But judging from Ryan's rant, that had not been the right conversational topic to bring up. Seth had just fallen off the stupid tree, and hit every stupid tree branch on the way down. "I… I…" he stuttered, wondering why he had just been afflicted with a horrible speech impediment. Okay, words needed to be coming out of his mouth right now. Preferably the _right_ words, because he had witnessed Ryan in a fistfight, and the odds weren't looking good.

The tough-looking boy sighed heavily. "Forget it. You obviously don't know. I gotta go."

"I…!" Seth's last attempt at speaking failed. How could he express in layman's terms that he wanted Ryan not to go, to stay and hear him out, yet he knew he had to go and find Marissa because she had been driven away with the truth, although she needed to hear it anyway and it would have been unfair to let her stay ignorant, and… dammit. His vocabulary skills were sadly lacking in that department.

Branch. Branch. Branch. And then hitting the stupid ground. Oh look, wasn't that – yes, the stupid truck was now running him over.

Later, less than an hour's drive from where Stupid Seth was sitting, Marissa was watching real trucks pass her by from her seat on the corner of a sidewalk.

It had been a couple of hours. Why wasn't Ryan here yet? She was sure that if she ran to a place only he was familiar with, he'd figure it out and come for her. But so far, there had been no pricey car in sight and all she had to show for her wait were a couple of mosquito bites and a very suspicious looking rash on her ankle. Scratching at it distractedly, she scanned the road again. It was growing dark now; she wasn't sure how long she could take in her low-cut top and miniskirt in the increasingly chilly weather.

She could manage, though. Like Ryan had said not so long ago, she needed to be independent anyway. Maybe she could live out here for a while. Maybe some kind Chino family could take her in, like the Cohens had done with him. She could picture them, dark-haired, kind, maybe even one of them was an old friend of his. That sounded good. And eventually she could get a job and impress him with her ability to hack it in this horrid place.

But first, he needed to be here to see it happen.

Drumming her fingers impatiently on the concrete, Marissa gave another once-over of the entire area. The night was coming alive now, and she could hear loud music blaring on one side, a heated marital argument on the other. It was almost like _The Valley_, only this time the people were real and so were the sensations. She glanced at her watch.

One o' clock already. How did it get to be so late? And where was Ryan?

She scratched aggressively at the annoying red blotch on her ankle, wincing as she finally drew blood. These unconscious habits were getting to her.

Screw it! She couldn't do this anymore. If Ryan was going to find her, she would have to be somewhere a little bit closer to home, because obviously his detective skills weren't up to par. Whipping her cell phone out, she dialled the cab service's number quickly and purposefully.

Luke busied himself around his house, self-consciously checking his reflection every once in a while in a mirror to make sure nothing was out of place. His brothers were at a sleepover, his mom was out on a date (and judging from her choice of dress, she wouldn't be back until morning), which meant only one thing in the Luke Ward Guide to Life.

Well, two things: party… or booty call!

Each sounded appealing. He had hoped for both, but anyway, that wish had been granted in the bash of '02. Uh… when he and Marissa had briefly broken up. Tonight, though, it was the call of The Booty that he answered to, and that call alone (he would reconcile with the call of The Beer some other day). He sneaked a peek at the clock in the kitchen. Two o' clock. It was almost time now. He readied himself with the final gesture, a spritzing in his mouth of minty goodness, and stood guard at his front door.

All that was left to do was wait. And then The Booty should bless him with its divine presence.

The doorbell rang on cue, and he excitedly grabbed for the door handle.

"Julie!" he called out eagerly.

However, standing in front of him was not Julie, but another Cooper. Marissa, as a defeated and humiliated mess, bearing a questionable ankle rash.

Luke was considered dumb by most, but he was pretty sure that she would not be blessing him with The Booty anytime soon.

Seeing as how she didn't really have one.


	30. Thirty

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: I'm feeling the O.C. withdrawal, my friends. I have no idea how I'm supposed to get inspiration without a weekly reminder… If my last chapters haven't been exactly stellar lately (in timing and in content), I apologize. It's been hard getting the creative juices flowing, but I thank you all for your awesome comments. That being said, here is the much-deserved thank-you list (I was going to thank everyone from chapter 23 on, but there were just too many – thanks again, btw! – so it'll be from 27 on):

HOTTERTHNU – Yeah, I can totally see Seth being mean and bitter. And you're working on your thesis? As in university? Ah well, anyway, sorry I bash Marissa. But I mean, I need a scapegoat, and I just love Seth/Summer/Ryan more than her. Sorry again!

bens-baby – I hope to bring more different hoo-haws to the table and cheer you up. :)

benzbabidoll – Wow. Didn't expect so many people to like Evil Seth. Hmm… that would be a nice addition to the plot… And actually, I was busy because of exams and personal stuff. But thanks for caring!

BlueStarGirl – Yeah, I always found it interesting to know _why_ people are doing evil stuff. Like why would Oliver latch on to Marissa, of all people, instead of, say, any other girl he met in therapy?

surlygirly – Why thank you! I hope to see more of you in the future.

Lucy – raises fist in air Yes! Another person on the Ryan/Summer train! One person down. Next: the world! Mwahahahaha!

yeah right… – Heh, I almost thought you were going to go back and review every chapter, and I was like, "Whoa." Anyhoo, thanks for some constructive criticism – believe me, I know, I would change the first few chapters if I could, but I think it's nice to know how different chapters one and thirty really are. I'm not sure if the 'yeah right…' who reviewed chapter 28 is the same person though, since s/he put their e-mail down. Is it? Are you? Eh? But your compliments were very flattering, thanks a bunch!

Lulu34 – Lol, I did somewhat predict the finale. Now if only Ryan could come back before Seth returned, everything will fall into place. Dammit, I wish I was a writer for the show. :P

Liz – Aww, sorry for the lack of Chino goodness.

Varthan – It's a good question, indeed! I try to torture my characters as much as possible for some reason.

Sayra Louise – I'm up for the challenge of convincing you of Ryan and Summer (maybe even Luke and Julie for some others – I'm surprised no one really found that squicky)!

Silver Dog Demon – Did you get my e-mail yet?

Brody – Dude, you need to have a talk with HOTTERTHNU. But heh, I think I'm a (closet) Marissa hater too. And the show will be back in late October? No! Say it isn't so! sobs

Kaylee – Yeah, the two don't get any privacy anymore. But that's life, amigo, and it sucks like a Hoover sometimes.

rckrbaby04 – That's one of my favourite one-liners, because it just came out of the blue for me.

Beboppin' Betty – Yeah, on screen I'm partly an S/S fan also. But the O.C. is a soap opera-ish show; who knows what'll happen next season?

Samantha! – Glad you enjoyed it. :D

**Chapter Thirty**

Julie Cooper's perfectly manicured French-tipped fingernails clicked impatiently on the steering wheel. Usually, she never let anything get in her way, and now she was obeying a lone red stop light at a deserted intersection.

The irony didn't escape her.

She didn't know why she was stopping instead of speeding right through as she had always done. Hell, she didn't even know why she was going to Luke's in the first place. Yes, _Luke's_. That blonde, blue-eyed ex-boyfriend of her daughter's who, thank God, was already past jailbait age. (But just barely.)

No wonder everyone called her the 'skank from Riverside' when they thought she wasn't listening. She didn't have much of a specific preference when it came to men.

In high school, she had dated every kind of guy possible. Older or younger, taller or shorter, from the athletic and lithe to the shy and studious. She flitted from each one to the next, never keeping him for more than a few weeks. Julie was dumped by no one; it was always the other way around. No one was allowed to break up with her, until she had dug her claws into him, sucked him dry, and then disposed of him. (The gossip mongers at Riverside High could never put this into light terms.)

With all of the boys and men she had come into contact with, Julie realized that after having a long hard look at her, they really only wanted one thing, and one thing only: sex. A roll in the hay. A rocking of the casbah. You get the idea.

And she was usually more than willing to give them what they wanted.

But again, this did not make her a ho. She was too good for that. She was, as those nice old ladies from church liked to say, a 'restless spirit'. And in the later teens of her life, Julie was a whole lot of restless.

She looked back on this area of her life with fond nostalgic memories, until a fateful morning in a bright hospital as she gazed into the eyes of her new baby daughter. She glanced at the soft light brown down on the head, the button nose, the cute pouty mouth, the delicate fingers… and realized, shit. She was going to have an amazingly beautiful daughter.

Julie tried to teach Marissa a lot in her childhood, she really did, about men and how to avoid their dirty little clutches. But the fact of the matter is, Julie was only 19 years her daughter's senior, and that meant she couldn't be much of a teacher or a mother. She watched as Marissa predictably blossomed in her later years into another version of Teenage Julie, this time a straight-haired brunette with doe-like eyes. Whereas Julie had curves in all the right places, her daughter grew to have a stick for a body.

But that was okay. It was what Newport teens were supposed to look like.

Julie breathed a sigh of relief when Luke Ward came into the picture, with his movie-star good looks and his parents' steady income. This was a boy who could take care of her daughter. This was a boy who would probably marry Marissa even if she didn't get pregnant. The future looked full of promise, and now all that was left to worry about was Caitlyn.

And hey, didn't Luke mention that he had two younger brothers?

It seemed like there was no problem. Until Sandy Cohen decided on some good Samaritan whim to bring a snotty little juvenile called Ryan and install him in the pool house. Julie saw her past come to life before her eyes, the beginnings of young love. But she had worked too hard for this, for a place where her children could grow up without having to work a day in their lives. Ryan represented trouble; any girl's future with him meant hardship and heartbreak, especially if he came from _Chino_.

At least the sudden intrusion into her life had been a promising twenty-something with a hefty trust fund and good prospects in a financial career. The bonus was his sense of honour, because any other self-respecting Newport man would have taken one look at her trailer trash origins and left, only getting what he came for. Yes, Jimmy Cooper had been an honourable man, that is, before he decided to cheat his clients out of their money even though there was no logical motive to.

They already had the mansion, the cars, the kids. What more could he have wanted? Apparently a five-by-five jail cell and an uncovered toilet to boot.

Julie had tried to love him before the whole marriage had blown up in their faces. She really did. She knew that giving up Kirsten had been difficult, and working every day to put food on the table was also very taxing. And she appreciated his efforts to be a loving dad to the kids, too. But she didn't _love_ him. And neither, she suspected, did he love her.

But they really had tried to make it all work. It just so happened that they failed.

Then Caleb Nichol came along. Julie didn't know when she started rating men on how thick their wallets were instead of factors like how tight their abs were, but it didn't make much of a difference. Just trading one superficiality for another. She had been a wreck: her marriage was in shambles, her children hated her, and her friends were name-calling behind her back. Problems like this – _any_ problems – were easy to fix in Newport if you just had a lot of money.

And Cal, well, had a ton of it. She wouldn't be surprised if he rolled around in it daily, and used twenties to wipe his ass. He was filthy, stinkin' rich.

Unfortunately, he was just like any other man, and Julie was pretty sure that he didn't come imbued with a set of morals. How dare he? She did not give booty calls. She _asked_ for them!

That was the appeal of Luke. He was young enough to still take orders and had enough sense to allow the woman in the relationship to boss him around. Sure, he had a 'healthy appetite', but the feeling was mutual. The look of adoration he constantly wore for her didn't hurt. It made her feel young again, that she still looked hot enough for some boy old enough to be her son to lust after her.

His appeal was solely based upon some abstract feeling of attraction. It was not like he was the absolutely the richest guy she had ever met (that was Cal), nor the best-looking (that was some guy in Europe she had toyed around with). Based on the circumstances, being that he was Marissa's ex, and she was, oh, almost twenty years older than him and in the middle of a divorce, she should have dumped him by now and drowned her sorrows in margaritas instead.

But she didn't.

Even when they were found out, and when Julie thought that she would just fall apart at the thought of Marissa back in the hospital again, whatever her and Luke were doing continued.

Julie didn't think that she would ever know why.

Her cell phone rang, and when she glanced at the Caller I.D., she smiled.

"Luke," she acknowledged satisfactorily.

"Mrs. Coo – Julie, listen. I need to make this brief because she's only just gone to the bathroom. I mean, Marissa's here and she's in my bathroom. So, uh, don't worry, okay? But this means that we can't get together tonight to uh… do the thing. That thing. You know." He coughed awkwardly.

"That's… that's…" She couldn't suppress her grin. "Thanks. I'll call you later."

She had originally planned on going to his place as a means of comfort for the time being, and then look for Marissa some more in the morning. But now… two birds with one stone indeed. He had comforted her with the news that her daughter was back in Newport, and that was enough. She expected that he had enough brains not to mention their little meeting-that-never-was tonight to Marissa. But that assumption wasn't fair; she knew that Luke was growing more mature by the minute.

Or it could just be that she hoped so.

Because whenever they met up at the Mermaid Inn or wherever, and were hot and heavy under the covers, she couldn't help but picture a group of cops busting through the door, shouting, "Police! Julie Cooper, put your hands up! You're under arrest for committing indecencies with a minor!"

Then this picture morphed into one where the policemen were totally hot and shirtless. She would coyly ask, "Are you going to handcuff me, officer?" and the fantasy would keep on going downhill from there.

What did you expect, anyway? She always had a thing for cops. If the time ever came for her to have a bachelorette party, that would be what she'd want, as a theme.

Then again, firemen wouldn't be so bad either.


	31. Thirty One

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: sigh Last night marked another Monday of the emptiness in my heart known as "O.C., where are thee?" I'm going crazy! I had to settle for C.S.I.: Miami, and then it turned out to be the season finale, and… oh brother. Someone needs to pick up the universal remote and fast forward to late October. Summer vacation may be forsaken in the process, but, dammit, that's how much I love my T.V. I guess I'm addicted (to T.V. or abbreviations? Heh.) Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter (I promise there'll be more R/S next time!) Winter vacation needs to end soon, lol, and it's back to school. And I totally forgot to say 'onwards' last chappie (it's become tradition, wot wot) so I'm saying it now and saying it proud: onwards (times two)!

**Chapter Thirty-One**

Luke sighed in relief and settled back in the comfortable plush confines of his living room couch. He hadn't managed to ask _why_ Marissa was missing, but that wasn't important right now.Julie knew; it was up to him to call Mr. Cooper and tell him the good news. Plus, he'd heard that Summer was growing increasingly anxious and Ryan was out looking for the missing-in-action Newport princess. So, that made four people in total. One down, three to go.

Dialling Jimmy's apartment by heart, he was suddenly sick with worry. What do you say to the father whose daughter you had been knocking boots with, then cheated on, then got dumped unceremoniously by, and whom you were currently housing in the can? Not to mention the fact that you were bonking the man's ex-wife at the moment. Luke wasn't much of a deep thinker for this sort of stuff. For him, euphemisms were possible. Solutions were not.

The conversation went smoothly, though, except for one moment when Jimmy wondered out loud whether Julie knew, and then had to be reminded that she and Luke were on very close terms. He gave a resentful chuckle, and said that she was getting what was coming to her.

Luke didn't know what the hell that meant, but the ring stashed in the back of his closet certainly begged to differ. He'd drained his bank account, but it was worth it. A pink princess-cut diamond with more carats than you can count on your hands and toes, he could tell you that much.

Why he had bought it was still an unsolved mystery. He just saw it in a boutique window and thought, Julie would _love_ that. Then he bought it. It had been so simple, the buying. He had wondered why men didn't do it more often. You know, for birthdays and anniversaries. For 'just because' days and every Monday. Then he realized that he would actually have to give it to her, in person, and he'd have to use words and speak and everything. He started thinking. Too hard, in fact. And that's when things started to go downhill.

Now, Luke had read the occasional Cosmo, for research benefits, you see. His mother seemed to enjoy it a lot, and he figured, what better way to understand the feminine mystique? And he pretty much understood that giving a ring to someone ("Such a _nice_ engagement ring," the owner of the shop had commented) after maybe six months together, barely even doing what was considered as dating… well, that was idiotic. He might have to stop bleaching his hair, it was so idiotic: the colour would be coming in naturally! Plus, there would be the whole thing about marriage.

That was kind of important to women, or at least, according to Cosmo. Apparently, it usually occurred once in a woman's lifetime, although in Newport that was hardly ever the case. The women there didn't really plan their fairy-tale weddings ever since they were four and wore a white pillowcase around their heads. By the time they were that age, they'd tossed the veil aside and were planning to invest. It seemed like all they did was look at money and jewellery.

Julie was sometimes like that, too. But she was from Riverside, not Newport, and that made her a little different from the norm.

Then again, that was what he loved about her.

Oh yeah, the love part. He needed to get to that soon. He'd known for a while that he had loved Julie Cooper, but he didn't think she knew that he knew. (This was getting confusing.) I mean, there were times when he would whisper it in her ear, but that was when she was basking in a post-coital glow and half-asleep, mumbling something like, "Hands up!" or "Mmm… handcuffs." Luke wasn't sure if those were ever appropriate times to wake her. So he didn't.

He actually enjoyed watching her sleep, anyway.

Not like in the creepy stalker way. That was Oliver's department. But especially in the glow of the moonlight, softly illuminating her cute wrinkles and peaceful face… that was when he was sure that even if she developed enough wrinkles to resemble a raisin or acquired cellulite on that rockin' ass of hers, he would still stay with her. Although he'd rather not think of raisins and cellulite at the moment.

It was in the latter part of their relationship, after they were found out by Marissa, that everything became less hush-hush and more rush-rush (okay, so puns were not his thing any more so than solutions). When everyone, even Seth and Ryan, decided to look down upon him and shun him. Luke had almost stopped regretting that he let the water polo team let loose their bodily functions in Seth's sneakers. Anyway, there was no need for privacy when the whole town knew what you were doing, so the whole exciting risk factor was lost. That didn't really matter, though.

Luke had Julie and she had him, and that made him feel warm and fuzzy all over.

Damn, dude! First the moonlight comment, and now this? He was getting downright sissy-like. This had to stop.

Uh… Sports! He played sports. And he was good at them, too. He also liked beer. Lots of beer. And, ooh, monster trucks. He had heard Julie talk about them once, in a hushed voice, meaning that she was discussing some secret part of her 'past' life in Riverside. Julie had made monster trucks sound so interesting. _Everything _she said sounded interesting, even when he had once heard her listing a grocery list to the maid.

…Yeah, Luke was whipped.

But there was no use thinking of that now; Marissa wouldn't stay in the bathroom forever, and there were two more people who needed to be notified. Pressing the phone receiver's buttons quickly, he waited impatiently until Ryan picked up.

"Luke? Wha –"

"No time for that now!" he interrupted. "This is urgent. It's about Marissa."

"Marissa! You mean –"

And then Luke heard the most horrible sound: the flushing of a toilet. Marissa was coming back in! "Oh shit, I'll call you back later! Fuck, I need to call Summer too –"

"No need. Summer's… with me."

Those were the last words from Ryan before Luke hung up without hesitation and turned to watch for Marissa's entrance. There was a brief pause, and then a tiny, almost burned out lightbulb above his head came to life. Wait… Summer was with Ryan? Summer was _with_ Ryan? _Summer_ was with _Ryan_? Well, common sense be damned!

It was at this moment that Marissa chose to walk in the room, and the first thing she saw was Luke's shocked expression. She jumped to her own conclusions, of course. "The rash looks that bad?" she shrieked. Then she ran back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Marissa!" Luke yelled. Oh great. At this rate, she was never going to leave his house. He looked longingly at the phone lying innocently on its side, wishing he could ask for Ryan's advice. But with Marissa being so sensitive right now… a phone call to yet another one of her ex-boyfriends might not be such a good idea. There was also the matter of why she ran away to his place; it's not like he thought himself her most trusted confidante or something.

"Luke's?" Summer asked similarly, while seated cross-legged on Ryan's bed halfway across town. She scrunched up her face in disgust. "Why him?"

"I don't know. He said he'd call me back though." Ryan shrugged.

"Is he going to call me? Because he only knows my home phone number, and –"

"No. He knows… you're with me," he admitted with a tinge of guilt. "I thought it would be a good time to tell him, and… stuff…"

Summer blinked almost comically. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Ryan glanced at the clock and grimaced. "It's getting late; you should go home now. I'll call you with any news from Luke as soon as possible."

"It's not like my parents would notice," she remarked nonchalantly. "Besides, I want to be here."

He gestured around the pool house, and gazed downwards at his bed, puzzled. "You mean… here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't try any funny stuff; I'm not that kind of girl."

He refrained from cracking a dry joke about that comment. It just wasn't worth it, he'd learned. The five seconds of amusement he gained usually didn't compensate for one week of the cold shoulder.

It was in the middle of the night (Luke _still _hadn't called) when Summer woke up suddenly. "What the…" Still disoriented, she mumbled, "Where am I? Is this a dream?"

Ryan cracked open one eye irritably and grunted, "No. Your clothes are still on."

Summer had the sense to push him out of bed.

"Ass."


	32. Thirty Two

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: SORRY! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I am a bad, _bad_ updater and I don't even deserve to kiss the ground Captain Oats walks on! I just had a hellish month of end-of-year exams, but I promise to take up writing again on a regular basis. Well, actually, since it's summer vacation (almost!), maybe I won't be updating like every three days, but dammit, I'm finishing this story even if it kills me! I drew up a plan, so if things go well, I will be following my predetermined directions until completion. You guys have been really great; I am not worthy! Okay, no dawdling now, onwards to the chapter…

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Ryan cringed as he opened his eyes to meet the harsh light of early morning, becoming gradually aware that something was different. This was his bed, and he was inside the pool house, nothing out of place. It was quiet except for the occasional gentle swaying of a light breeze. Newport winters didn't count for much, but Ryan just didn't do cold. And in only his wifebeater and worn-out sweatpants, he was starting to feel like Frosty the Snowman. Not wanting to lose the pleasant feeling of being half-asleep, he started patting in random places around him in search of his runaway blanket. Then his hands finally rested on a warm mass on the edge of the bed.

Figured that Summer would hog all the covers.

He pulled at them delicately first, trying not to wake her. She shrunk into a tight ball, pulling the sheets more tightly around her, and Ryan tugged at them even more insistently. At last he gave up, out of options. Flopping back to his side of the bed, he tried to tune out the cold and shut his eyes in silent contemplation. It was almost unfathomable that two teens could spend the night together, yet not actually have _done_ anything (not even some subtle inappropriate touching!). But here were him and Summer as a prime example that it was totally possible.

The fact that this went against everything that he grew up believing was also somewhat terrifying.

Having a bedroom next to Dawn's wasn't the best thing in the world, if you wanted to come away from childhood without being scarred for life. There were certain signs that the innocence of adolescence could ignore, but by the time Ryan reached his early teens, he was beginning to understand how really happy adults could be when they were alone with each other.

Or at least, they _sounded_ happy.

His curiosity about male and female relationships was satisfied (in more ways than one) by an older women, some acquaintance of his mother. He couldn't really remember how it all started, but before he knew it, they were intimately involved and he was humming the song "Mrs. Robinson" under his breath. There had been no feeling in it, though. She had taught him a lot, sure, and he was grateful for that, but nothing went past their mentor-student sentiments.

It was this, however, that led him to become a man-whore in every sense of the word. Maybe he was confused by his first sexual encounters, maybe it was just the general atmosphere of Chino… but he was beginning to accept that you didn't have to care for someone to sleep with her. It almost became a routine, going to random parties, clubs, raves, etc., then picking up a girl and going back to her place for some one-on-one time. He'd gather his belongings, leave in the morning, and the next time they'd see each other, it was under the pretence of being complete strangers.

That was, until Liz Parker. The setting was some party Eddie was throwing, and Ryan's eyes met hers from across the room. Of course, they went back to her house, had a couple of beers, and went upstairs to bed. That was normal. When he shut her front door behind him the next morning, he had never expected to see her again. That was normal too. He was proved wrong, however, when she accidentally stumbled into him on the street a couple of weeks later. She was shaking and looking quite unsettled, and when she glanced up to apologize, he noticed that she had a black eye.

And that was how it all started.

Something kicked in; it could have been his guilt from their one-night stand, his anger at his own abusive family life, the feeling that this shouldn't be happening, all this hurt and pain at such a young age for them… and somehow, she became the second woman to be in his company for more than one time. Subsequently, she became his first girlfriend.

Many more followed, predictably, and plus his relationship with Liz didn't last that long. All of his following girlfriends had been abused, downtrodden, defeated in a way. And Ryan was there to pick them right back up. He had felt the urge to save every single one of them, and solve all of their problems. And he had, for the most part, given them the comfort that they needed at that point in their lives. And when there was no more conflict, when they were back on their feet, both agreed amicably to a mutual break-up.

He didn't know when he started mistaking the satisfaction at seeing them healed for feelings of affection. This certainly wasn't helped by the fact that some of the women mistook their gratefulness at his valiant deeds for love, also. Gradually, he began to care for them more and more without even realizing it, and let himself accept the idea that being the hero was something he was meant for.

This all came to a head when he met Marissa.

At their first encounter, he thought her a naïve, perfect little specimen of a future trophy wife. She had asked him for a smoke, although he could tell she didn't do it often. He could also tell that she was attracted to him, so he flirted noncommittally, entertaining the idea that she might be good for a one-nighter. That was, until he saw her being dragged up her driveway by two crappy friends, drunk out of her senses. Until her dad lost the family savings and her parents split up. Until Luke cheated on her in Tijuana and she tried to commit suicide. Yeah. Until that.

He didn't even know where to begin. She was like the ultimate charity case.

They dated (obviously), and their relationship was strong because he thought he liked her a lot, maybe even loved her despite her messy life. He helped her get her act together and go to rehab, and he did everything the perfect boyfriend should have done. They had something that seemed to be reciprocated by the other. Everything was going fine. And then she met Oliver, another righteously fucked up individual. Some kind of camaraderie probably stirred inside of her, and that's when she decided to reject Ryan in favour of the crazy stalker.

Of course he had been angry; who wouldn't? But the more and more he thought it over at his 'fortress of solitude' (that nickname was Seth's idea), the more and more it made sense. He realized that he hadn't loved her at all; that in terms of giving and taking, theirs had been a one-sided relationship, at the most. While all of her problems were being solved, it seemed as if the number of his were growing. And he couldn't be bitter because he had felt nothing for her in the first place, had gained nothing from her company. Sure, he did his duty and saved her from the danger Oliver's gun posed, but that would be the last time, he had decided. And it was.

Then there was Summer. To be together with her… was the most selfish thing he could've done. It seemed absolutely wrong, but at the same time, for lack of a better term, being with her felt so right. She was unlike any other person he'd met before, independent, brash, tempered with just the right amount of humility. And he knew that even though he may have at some point pitied her when Seth left, it wasn't about saving her in any way. That their relationship was at that incredibly blissful point where both were well-adjusted and nothing could go awry (which was exactly the time when two people would usually break up).

Yet, they hadn't gone their separate ways. They were just two goofy people in love. It felt nice, Ryan had to admit.

Pause.

…Wait.

Love?


	33. Thirty Three

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: Heh, Varthan, your comment was right on the money. The last chapter was totally planned to lead in to Summer's POV about her relationships and life experiences. Any characterization I make of her past, however, pales in comparison to emrie's "Chambers of the Sea". It's a really beautiful story, and a must-read for anyone who is a fan of Summer. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter; plus, I don't think I'll be writing entire ones from Seth or Marissa's POV afterwards. Onwards!

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

Summer awoke to the shifting of bedcovers and one annoying ray of sunlight directly in her eyes. Instinctively, she curled up into a ball, not wanting to be a disturber nor a disturbee. She noticed Ryan shivering slightly next to her, but couldn't bring herself to unravel the blankets encircling her. Then he would've realized that she was up. Then they would've had to talk about what had really happened between them.

Now, speech wasn't a difficult function for her. She used it all the time. And when she got frustrated with it, a simple threat laced with unrepressed anger would shut her companion right up. However, speech concerning personal feelings and issues about intimacy, that was a different matter. That was the one of the few subjects that she practically knew nothing about, and hence, that made her feel insecure and unsure about herself. To the outside world, this was unthinkable.

She had learned how important it was to preserve this façade at an early age. And she had learned it the hard way.

Summer Roberts was born at a fancy Newport hospital with a silver spoon in her mouth. This silver spoon relied upon an empire and a life-long practice of her father's that dealt with unwanted cellulite and the means to suck it out of hapless rich women. Nonetheless, it was clear, from the moment that she opened her wide espresso-coloured eyes, that she wouldn't ever need plastic surgery. She was perfect.

Everyone liked to exclaim how beautiful, how _darling_ she looked in her little onesies with the princess-style ruffles and the pretty bowties in her hear. Her mother drank in the praise, basked it in like she would a leisure suntanning. And that was why she named her little baby 'Summer' (it was a good thing she was born in the summertime). But when the guests left, when it was just mother and daughter, plus occasional father, things were understatedly different. Summer, like all babies, cried, especially at night. Like normal infants, she would sometimes spit up on her pretty little onesies. Like most newborns, there would be times when nothing could appease her. This was the norm.

Yet to her mother, however, this was unacceptable behaviour.

The woman grew used to handing her baby off to the nearest servant whenever Summer was too loud, too dirty, too wet, too warm, and soon it was unclear whether she knew who her own parents were. Already comfortable with leaving her daughter behind with strangers, Summer's mother resumed the steady schedule of travel that she had adopted during her honeymoon. The sole gestures of acknowledgement she allowed her only child were the sporadic packages mailed to the house from exotic places all over the world, wherever she happened to be. And she always sent snow globes, most likely passing thoughts of hers as she languished in the airport, waiting for her next flight.

Summer had never seen snow before.

Each time she received a globe, she would dutifully place it on her dresser, lining them up in neat rows. She would move all her favourite ones to the front, then sit and admire them for hours on end. The worlds depicted in miniature fascinated her, especially the random flurries of fake snow she could cause with just one shake. They were so picturesque, she had decided. If only Newport were a snow globe.

When her mother inevitably tired of being tied down with a husband and child, she left her family indefinitely. Given no explanation, Summer's infantile mind could only comprehend her _own_ failures and shortcomings. Holing herself up in her room, she dug her favourite snow globe out of its recent home, the trash can, and scrutinized it as she had years ago. There must have been something her mother had tried to tell her, she had decided. There must be some secret encoded in these glass enclosures, and she was the only one who could figure it out.

Eventually she became frustrated with her lack of success. All she could see were the little people and buildings in their tiny world where nothing moved, except for the occasional snowstorm. These people were probably happy. _Their_ mothers would never leave them, and _their_ fathers would never become overly interested in the hired help. If her life were like this, so enclosed, so isolated, so _flawless_… she would have no reason to feel this heart wrenching sadness.

Then everything clicked into place.

Glass walls were easy to erect. Smokescreens were simple to conjure. Catchphrases and disguises were effortless to invent. Summer tried to be the most convincing actress in the world, keeping up appearances so that she looked unapproachable, yet desirable. Boys had been easy to manipulate, especially after her body developed into all the right curves. She gave the drooling Neanderthals the impression that they were getting somewhere with her, then took it away.

Two steps forward, three steps back.

This sense of power that she wielded was a far cry from her earlier days of helplessness. And as the years passed, when everyone got so damn educated and paid attention in sex ed. class, it grew increasingly harder for her to maintain this act without looking like a prude. Boys became more demanding and exclusive, and Summer found herself having to relinquish more and more of her body in order to stay in the game. It had been easy to breeze past first, second, then third base, but she never allowed anyone to go all the way with her. After sex, things really would get complicated, and personal. Then she wouldn't be able to trust herself and her emotions when it came time to let go.

And that's how Summer remained a virgin until she was 16.

After Holly. After Marissa. After Alexis, Tara, Leah… she had lost track, really. It had been no mean feat to do so. Lord knows many boys had _tried_, and some even became frighteningly violent (although a swift kick to a certain sensitive area did the trick for that). But Seth Cohen had been different. He memorized her poems from childhood. He could still remember the days when she still had a heart. And he even named his boat after her – a fact relayed by Ryan during the summer, when they were still trying to just make conversation. If she hadn't found this endearing, she would have considered Seth downright creepy. A regular Oliver. I mean, even _she_ couldn't remember which dress she wore on the first day of kindergarten.

But Seth knew.

Seth seemed to know everything about her, in fact, and it both scared and exhilarated her. She didn't have to pretend to be someone else anymore, because Seth could call her bluff. She didn't mind losing control over herself through her jealousy of Anna, and she was pretty certain that she would never regret letting Seth be her first. He made it clear for her that she really did deserve someone great, someone caring and sensitive to her needs, someone she could love. She understood this now. And it was through this reasoning that she also understood that she could never love Seth, not in _that way_, and that their relationship could never really pass the confines of only a deep friendship.

By being such an amazing boyfriend, he made her realize that she didn't need _him_, specifically. She needed someone like Ryan.

Summer was well aware that she was lucky to have him. He was almost perfect inside (as well as out!), despite Marissa's haphazard efforts to change him. Marissa hadn't realized that all of his faults and emotional problems were what made him Ryan Atwood, not some plastic Ken doll whose underwear was melded to his body. Even Barbie hadn't wanted _that_. And Summer wanted to reward him for just being him and as honest as he could be in a place like Newport. She wanted to show him that she placed her complete and utter trust in him, and that her affections weren't pretence. She could accept the flaws in the both of them.

For some reason, there was only thing she could give him that even remotely conveyed these feelings in her: she could finally sleep with him.

She was sure he would understand sooner or later, and it actually wouldn't matter if he did or not. The point was, _she_ could appreciate the act and what it meant for her, and that would be enough.

First, he needed to brush his teeth and get rid of that seriously bad morning breath he was sporting.

That was okay, though.

She probably had bed head.


	34. Thirty Four

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: It's summer vacation and I'm just languishing in the house. I'm trying to survive on Joe Schmo 2 (such an awesome and hilarious show, tee hee) and reruns of CSI: Miami. I hope all of you guys are enjoying the act of sleeping in and minimal to non-existent brainwork (er, aside from writing, of course) as much as I am. Anyway, this chapter was fun to write – perhaps a bit disjointed. I guess that means it's fluff-tastic, but we all need a taste of that after those four 'weighty' chapters, right? Onwards! (Btw, happy Canada Day!)

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

Silent, Ryan and Summer just laid in bed together, both battling with their inner demon of the week. Ryan was growing increasingly colder with each passing minute, noticeably shivering, yet he didn't want to actually get up or give any other indication that he was conscious. In addition, Summer was starting to sweat underneath her cocoon of blankets, her limbs warm and clammy against her body. He counted the seconds uneasily, with a paranoid diagnosis of hypothermia crossing his mind more times than he'd have liked. She was busy wondering whether it was possible to die from dehydration by uncontrollable sweating.

Neither of them wanted to wait and find out.

Swearing under their breaths, both rid themselves of any physical hindrances and stood up, one with teeth chattering, the other heavily breathing. They faced each other and suddenly Summer took in the sight of Ryan's dishevelled hair and clothes, plus his sudden habit of staring at anyplace except for at her. He looked adorable.

God, she wanted to jump him.

Unnerved by her sudden desire, Summer stammered a bit loudly, "Pee! I need to pee!" while gesturing wildly and pointing in a somewhat general direction with both hands. Then she ran off, leaving behind two steamed footprints on the floor.

In the privacy of the bathroom and under the glare of fluorescent lighting, she scrutinized her appearance. Oh, fuck, her _hair_. She looked like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. No wonder Ryan didn't want to look at her, he was probably scared shitless. Grabbing her make-up kit, she finished making herself presentable and stepped outside warily. Must keep mind out of gutter. Must try not to think only about Ryan's body. Must… not… revert… back… to… thoughts… of… summer!

Ryan quickly changed into something warmer and dutifully made up his bed, glancing over briefly when he heard the bathroom door open. Then he promptly flushed and turned away. Must keep mind away from puppies and rainbows. Must try not to think only about declaring his feelings for her. Must… not… revert… back… to… thoughts… of… Summer!

There was a moment of silence as their eyes met momentarily.

"Oh!" Ryan interrupted, sounding quite panicked. "What day is it today?"

"Uh… day? Monday, I think." She scrunched up her face, going through her mental calendar.

"Fuck! Don't we have school today?"

Realization dawned on her face. "No!" she exclaimed breathily. "I mean, yes! I mean, holy shit, like, what time is it?"

"It's… 7:18! What? Why didn't Kirsten or Sandy wake me up?"

"Maybe… they had been planning to. And then they saw… us. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit… Oh! Coop!"

"School first. We'll call Luke on the way."

"Okay," Summer strode towards Ryan and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll swing by later, I just need to like, get all school-prepared."

Ryan gave her a hard look. "School-prepared? As in primp in front of the mirror for an hour?"

She feigned offence. "An hour? Chino, you know as well as I do that I only take, like, forty-five minutes! …Just kidding. I'll only be a sex. _Sec_! A second! Only a second."

He snorted, oblivious to what she had just let slip. "Whatever, see you later. Love y–"

"Huh?"

"Glove!" he said fervently, startlingly her. "I'll need to remember my glove."

"Maybe it's in your sack. I mean, your _knap_sack. Oh God." She ran, almost sprinted out of the pool house before she burst into flames on the spot. It wasn't until later when she had the air-conditioning on at full blast in her car on the way home that she could finally think straight. Could she have been more obvious in front of Ryan?, she lamented. Sex, sec, that was like a typo everyone giggled over. It wasn't until she was face-to-face with her father, who looked none too pleased, when it suddenly hit her.

Ryan played baseball?

"Marissa!" Luke called for the umpteenth time, throwing his brother's baseball methodically against the bathroom door. "It's time to come out! We have school today, remember?"

Marissa wiped the drool off of her face and stretched from her makeshift bed, the bathtub. Grabbing the curtains and pulling herself upright, she groggily surveyed the room. Was it just her, or did her dad's apartment get even more small? And geez, what was that thumping? The upstairs neighbours really needed to get their place sound-proofed. She pushed open the door, only to get whacked in the stomach. Oh yeah. This was turning out to be a real winner of a morning.

Luke had the pleasure of informing her that "No, Ryan did not come for you last night" and "Really, that rash needs to be checked out by the doctor". "Why do you care about Ryan, anyway?" he asked her over breakfast, one eyebrow quirked at her Cocoa Puffs cereal drenched in coffee. He briefly wondered whether she'd be twitching by third period. Oh well. At least right now she could form full sentences. "I thought you were mad at him for hooking up with Summer."

"What, you think I'm going to treat him the same way I treated you when _you_ cheated on me?" she retorted. "I know it's not his fault."

"What?"

"I'm just _saying_, Sum can be really persuasive. And dependent. Ever since her mom abandoned her or something, I've always been the shoulder she cried on." Reaching for her bowl, she gulped down the remaining chocolate-coffee mix. "And when I went to Europe, there was Ryan."

"Uh… Marissa, I don't think you understand…"

"Look, Luke. I did some thinking in Chino and that was what made sense. I'm not worried at all. And I think I'm the better judge of both of them, right?"

"Um… Yeah." Right now, for some odd reason, Luke could only think about the many euphemisms that applied to these circumstances. One card short of a deck. The lights aren't all on upstairs. The wheel is spinning, but the hamster's dead. It kind of scared him.

She grabbed the car keys from their usual place on the rack, still familiar with the layout of the house and the Ward's habits. Luke could feel his heart seize in his chest.

"We're going to be late."

"O… okay. I just need…" He gingerly reached his hand forward in the direction of the keys.

Marissa shook her head in amusement and gently pushed him aside, unaware that he was beginning to almost hyperventilate. "No, it's okay. I'm driving. I can get us there faster than you ever could," she reassured. "We won't be late."

Right, Luke could see how this comment made it all better. Uh huh. He wasn't scared at all.

He was terrified.

_Squeak_. _Squeak_. _Squeak_. At least Chino looked happy on his little hamster wheel. Unlike the other members of the Roberts household.

"Great, just great," Summer grumbled as she straight-ironed her hair in record time. "The one day they choose to give a damn about me… I don't come home for the whole night." She had really never seen her father look so angry with, like, veins popping out and stuff. And her step-mother look so sobered up with, like, the ability to parrot whatever Dad said. "'Summer, I'm disappointed in you.' 'Yeah, we're _so_ disappointed,'" she mimicked as she angrily grabbed her purse where it landed after she had hurled it across the room post-parental lecture. What gave them the right to tell her what to do now? Certainly not their fabulous parenting for the past decade or so. And she hadn't realized that they would be coming back from Jamaica so _early_… Otherwise, she would've done… well, nothing different.

They were the ones who had changed, suddenly becoming laughable caricatures of good parents. They had brought up a curfew that had never been enforced until yesterday night. They mentioned alcohol missing from the cabinets, some of which Summer actually hadn't partaken in. They had even pointed to the hamster cage and asked her whether 'that creature' was sanitary!

The nerve! When had they ever cared about her? What, had they gone to the Wizard of Oz and got two hearts?

More like they had gone to Dr. Phil and got two 'hearts'.

This entire situation was just _wrong_ in its… wrongness. It gave her a headache, especially the last part. What was it her dad had said? Oh yeah.

"I'd like to meet the punk who corrupted my muffin."


	35. Thirty Five

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all. So don't sue me. Please.)

A Note from the Author: I'm as busy as a beaver so I'll try to make this brief. To _everyone_ who reviewed… I am not worthy (but much thanks anyway)! Sorry for a missing update, it's just been so hard for me to write something decent these days. The following was really just experimental because I _forced_ myself to write and all that came out was primarily dialogue. makes puppy-dog eyes Please give this chapter a chance! Love y'all lots, onwards ho.

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Try as she might, Summer could not make up her mind.

Fiddling obsessively with the radio dial, her brows knotted in concentration as she tried to divide her concentration between the road and the stations. Alt-rock. Hard rock. Pop. Country. Jazz. Hip hop. Classical. None of them fit the occasion. Irritated with her lack of success, she shut the damn thing off and drove the rest of the way in silence. This was _not_ turning out to be a good day.

"Is Seth coming?" she barked at Ryan as he climbed into the car.

By some miraculous empathetic feat, he was able to sense the tension in the air immediately. "Uh… I don't think so."

"God! Sissy-boy Cohen needs to, like, get over us already!" Summer practically yelled, subtly leaning her foot forward on the gas pedal.

"Summer… You okay?" he asked as he unsuccessfully fumbled for the seatbelt.

"No! I mean, yes, I'm fine. PMS."

"Sure." His white knuckles were visibly apparent as he hung on for dear life to the dashboard in front.

"Yeah, more like Parental Mismanagement Syndrome," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Mmm, nothing, just grumbling about school. By the way, did you remember it?"

"Huh?"

"Your _glove_, Chino!"

"Oh, that. I'll get around to it sometime, I guess."

She grunted in acknowledgement. Fuck, there was really no way to put the question off. Quit stalling! It was only three more blocks to school, and this car wasn't going any slower. "Damn it!" she cursed out loud. Tires screeching, she swerved to the side of the road.

Ryan almost had a heart attack. That's _it_ for cholesterol, he vowed. No more fast food. No more smoking. No more letting Summer drive. At this rate, his poor cardiac muscle was going to give out before he turned 20.

She turned to him, resolve set in her eyes. "Doyouwanttomeetmyparents?"

"Huh?" he sputtered, already anxious about what was coming next.

"I said, 'Do you want to meet my parents?'" she demanded.

"Your parents? Uh… uh… uh…" As in, the dad who she claimed to worship? The guy who almost destroyed her and Seth's relationship single-handedly with one comment of disapproval? The guy who represented everything in Newport Ryan didn't like? He was going to have to face _him_, plus her step-mom?

And as Summer watched the colour drain from his face, she was beginning to believe that she had the absolute worst timing in the world.

His condition didn't improve when they reached the school. Neither did it when they ran into Luke and Marissa in the hallway. It was a small world after all! Oh, joy.

"Ryan!" Marissa crowed. She then stood back to get a better view of him. "You look so… pale."

Luke forced a laugh and pulled her back. "Yeah, must be the lighting."

The four stood in an awkward rectangle as the pandemonium of confused students played out around them.

"So…" Summer began, glancing nervously at Marissa. Why was she acting so, well, _normal_? "How was Chi–"

"Ryan!" Seth called as he appeared at the end of the hallway. Jogging over to the foursome, he handed him one of his textbooks. "You forgot this at home."

Luke cracked an exaggerative smile. "And the gang's all here!"

Confused, Ryan squinted at Seth. Summer did the same. Well, the thing _looked _like Seth.

"Dude, you look like the poster child for TB."

It _talked_ like Seth.

"What? Mom made me bring it. She threatened to cook tonight!"

All signs pointed to Seth. So… why? Was this a dream? Was this the twilight zone? Had leather wristbands cut off circulation to his brain and/or should she lay off with the nail polish?

"Forget it. I'm going to the locker room to check on my gym shoes. I overheard some water polo guy's conversation, and let me just say, the forecast is most definitely acid rain. Of the yellow variety."

"Ew, Cohen. Just… ew!" Summer snapped out of her reverie enough to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Yeah, well… You're not the one who has to clean them out."

"Want help?" Luke offered. He nudged Ryan discreetly, aware that Seth's good mood wasn't something to waste.

"Uh… yeah. Need some help?"

"Sure." Seth shrugged. "The more the merrier. Or, in Luke's case, the fairy-er."

Luke deftly punched him in the shoulder. "Man, I _told_ you, no more jokes about my dad!"

Summer and Ryan exchanged looks of equal concern about the downright creepy state of circumstances before Marissa pulled her away to a private corner.

"C'mon, Sum, we need to talk."

"Sure, Coop…"

"So we're still friends, right? Because you're my _best _friend, and I don't think we should let anyone get between us."

"Er… Yeah." It was at this point that she began to believe the idea that this was all really happening, and that Marissa and Seth were simply, through some greater power, 'cured'. Maybe they had epiphanies last night or something. Anyway. It wasn't about the 'why' so much as the 'what'. The fact was, they seemed to be acting civil, even friendly again. That was a good thing, right? Weird and totally unexpected, yes, but nonetheless good?

Likewise, Ryan was being bombarded with enthusiastic-type comments from both Seth and Luke as they braved vacation-old filth.

"So… what exactly are we looking for again?" Ryan asked, a bit hesitant. Whatever it was, he was sure he wouldn't want to actually find it.

"My shoes! They're white. Well, they've got these stripes, which are blue. I mean, red. Wait, I threw out my white ones last year. They're grey. No, black!"

Luke adopted a mock pitying look and threw an arm around Seth's shoulders. "Forgive him. He likes to ramble sometimes."

Seth responded, just as sarcastically. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. You enrich our lives everyday with your intellectual insights."

The jock rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. You talk to a horse."

"I'll have you know, Captain Oats eats weaklings like you for breakfast! Or should I say that hay on top of your head that you call hair?" Seth retorted.

Luke touched his hair gingerly, then glared at him. "Oh, it's on now!" he bellowed as he tackled him to the floor.

Ryan could only shake his head in amusement.

"Help!" Seth called.

And grin.

"I'm too young to die! Ryan, please –"

And laugh all the harder. Seth had been wrong. The world was ready for some more Ryan-Seth-Luke time.

"I just think…" Marissa explained in a nearby hallway. "There should be some more Summer-Marissa time, that's all. You know, we've both been so busy that we haven't had a chance to really bond again. Just like old times."

"Yeah!" Summer agreed, visibly brightening. So things were back to normal now. Maybe she should just accept it. "I've missed you as a friend, Coop. I'm really glad you forgive me for, like, everything."

"Of course I do, Sum! I have no reason not to, especially since you've agreed… so yeah, when are you going to do it?"

"What? You mean… 'do it'?" The brunette's face turned bright red. Were her intentions that obvious? "It's… it's tricky, I don't know. There has to be that right time and place."

"I understand. Hey, you guys should have a fight or something, that would totally set the mood."

"Huh? But Ryan and I aren't really the fighting type, I don't know…" Summer paused. Well, making up was always the fun part.

"Then, how else are you going to break up with him?" Marissa asked nonchalantly.

"Excuse me?"

"You just said that you wouldn't let anyone get between us! Are you trying to take it all back yet?"

Summer bit her lip. "Um…" Right, she thought. Of course! Life was a bitch, how could she have forgotten that?  

"Because, gosh, I don't think I could be friends with someone like that," her companion added.

Life _was_ a bitch, Summer definitively decided. It was a two-bit whore that did no one any favours.

And frankly, it sucked like a Hoover.


End file.
